


I Won't Fall For You

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bullying, I'm not changing the rating over one scene okay you just have to deal with it, Like one smut scene, M/M, Reincarnation, but thats two more than I usually kill off so, low-key angst, only like two people die, some fluffs, vague sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2018-10-31 15:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 33,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Long ago, a man cast a reincarnation spell on both himself and his lover, to assure they'd be together forever. They were always to grow up separated, each unaware of the other, until their dreams led them back together. That's how it was for years on end, always following the same pattern. However, as time went by, people began to believe less and less in things like dreams, destiny, and magic. As their lives went on, it progressively became more difficult for the two to find each other, and by the time of their most recent reincarnations, Sigurd and Eiríkur...well you'll just have to read to find out.





	1. The Dreams Begin

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna wait til the summer to publish this so I could try to update more regularly, but it turns out my summer's gonna be about as crazy as my school year so whatever.

    A group of high school students were walking down the hall during passing period, when they saw a familiar face they quickly swerved to avoid. The boy was a freak in every regard. He dressed oddly, wearing long sleeves year-round; he spoke in a strange accent that no one could pinpoint the origin of; his hair was silver and his eyes were an impossible shade of violet; and, on top of all that, he was gay. Everything about him was wrong, and no one wanted to go near him.

  The boy, Eiríkur, resented the way people treated him. Was it his fault he had a skin condition and burned easily? No. Was it his fault he was Icelandic? No. Did he ask to look the way he did? No. Did he choose to be gay? Hell the fuck no. Yet everyone treated him as he willingly decided to be a freak.

   He huffed irritably as he made his way into his class. Out of all his classes, this was the worst: AP Calculus. Not only was it the worst subject, but this teacher let his students sit anywhere they wanted, so Eiríkur was always left alone in the back corner. The high school junior groaned miserably, hitting his head on his desk. He bet if someone, anyone, would give him the chance, he could be a good friend. 

  Like most days, he zoned out half the lesson, just dreaming about a scenario where one of his classmates would sit next to him. Maybe it would be one of the struggling students asking for help, since he was the smartest in his class. Maybe they would get a new kid that didn't know they were expected to avoid Eiríkur. He thought of a lot of maybes every day, but nothing ever happened. The teacher’s droning, monotone voice, along with Eiríkur’s tendency to daydream, quickly put him to sleep. 

  In his dream, he sat in a classroom; but this time he wasn't alone. He was sitting next to a  _ very  _ attractive blond, and they were talking and laughing with each other, and he was actually happy. Something was odd about the dream though. His surroundings were incredibly vivid, like it was a real place he'd been to before, and his classroom looked like one from decades ago. The way he spoke was nothing like his usual speech, and the blond kept calling him by the wrong name. Furthermore, the person in his dream looked just like one of his classmates—one of the ones who never even acknowledged his existence. Why would he dream about him? 

   Eiríkur awoke to the sound of the bell ringing, and got his things together and left. He quickly walked to his English class, head down, ignoring the insults and glares that were pointed towards him. As soon as he walked through the door, he accidentally bumped into someone. He looked up to see who it was and immediately had a heart attack. 

  “S-Sigurd. I'm so sorry, I-I wasn't looking.” Eiríkur stammered. 

  Sigurd, the blond that looked so much like the boy from his dream, stared at him in a way that made him shudder. The taller boy’s eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned down at Eiríkur, as if confused as to why such an outcast would dare to talk to him. 

  Eiríkur looked up at him nervously, and was about to apologize again when Sigurd lost interest and walked to his seat. Eiríkur sighed and walked to his own desk. Once he was settled in his seat, he promptly began mentally screaming at himself. 

_ Why, of all people, am I dreaming of him? He's such a jerk! We've had so many classes together over the years and I feel like this is the first time he's ever even looked at me. Dammit dammit dammit! Why is he in my head?!  _

__  Eiríkur groaned for billionth time that day. He hated English almost as much as he hated math. It was no secret that this wasn't his first language, and understanding the books they read in class was hard enough when they weren't reading shit by Shakespeare or Charles Dickens. Even the native English speakers in the class couldn't make sense of  _ A Tale of Two Cities _ , so the whole thing was complete gibberish to him. 

   That being said, he just about died on the spot when he found out his assignment for the night was finishing the damn book. The last time he understood what was happening in that story was the first chapter. And even then he was confused. 

   Eiríkur was up late that night, spending hours trying to understand what he was reading. He fell asleep on top of his book before he ever did.

 

_    Eiríkur lay in bed, resting his head on his boyfriend’s chest. He couldn't sleep, and glanced up at the blond to find that he was awake as well.  _

_   “Hey babe. I can't sleep.” he said.  _

_   “So? What do you want me to do about it?” the blond replied.  _

_   “I think you know exactly what I want you to do about it.” Eiríkur smirked.  _

__ What is this? Why am I doing this? _ He wondered, before his body began moving without his permission _ . 

_ He got up, moving to straddle his boyfriend’s lap. _

_   “Aw come on, don't make me beg.” he pouted, putting on his cutest face.  _

_   “Oh fine.” the larger male smiled down at him.  _

_   Next thing they knew, they were caught in a fierce make out session, and within minutes their clothes were discarded.  _

__ What's happening? I don't want to do this. Why can't I control my own body right now?  _ Eiríkur began to panic.  _

_   Despite his misgivings, the boy eventually gave in and simply enjoyed this new feeling. He moaned shamelessly as the larger male toyed with his body, and the pleasure began to override his thoughts. He didn't snap out of it until he felt something large pressing against his entrance.  _

__ Wait...we're not actually going to…?

_ “You ready?”  _

__ No. 

_ “Yes.”  _

__ Wait, no! 

_ Eiríkur screamed as the man entered him. He mentally pleaded with himself to stop what he was doing, but instead he wrapped his arms around the blond’s neck and began kissing him.  _

__ Stop! Stop it! Make it stop!  _ He tried to scream these words aloud, but what he ended up saying was quite the opposite.  _

_    “H-Harder dammit!”  _

_    “If you insist.”  _

_    Eiríkur’s moans got out of hand as his boyfriend complied with his request, and he began to worry he would wake up anyone within a ten mile radius. As much as he told himself he needed to stop, a small part of him was enjoying this too greatly to let it stop. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. It was as if he was in someone else's body, unable to control anything, but able to feel everything.  _

_    The feeling he got when he hit his finish was better than anything else he'd ever felt. Indescribable, really. It was— _

__ Eiríkur woke up with a scream. His heart was pounding and he was panting heavily. He couldn't believe he just had one of  _ those  _ kinds of dreams. Especially not about  _ Sigurd _ . Except, he wasn't sure it was Sigurd. It looked like him and sounded like him too, but it just didn't seem like him. Thinking back, Eiríkur could swear he remembered screaming out a different name, but he couldn't remember what it was. 

   He whimpered miserably, dreading having to go to school later that day. He knew he'd be forced to see Sigurd again in English class, and was terrified about it. He wasn't sure if he could ever look at the other teen again. Sighing loudly, he dragged himself out of bed, and began to get ready for school. 


	2. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigurd finally works up the guts to talk to the boy of his dreams.

  Sigurd yawned and stretched as he woke up. He’d had another amazing dream about that Icelandic boy from school. It was funny, really. He’d never paid much attention to the kid, and until earlier that year he hadn’t even known his name. That all changed when the dreams started. For whatever reason, some time into his junior year, Sigurd had started dreaming about Eiríkur on a nightly basis.

   At first Sigurd had no clue who it was he was dreaming of until he saw Eiríkur in school. The dreams started out like fleeting memories, flashing across his unconscious mind and then disappearing when he awoke, but gradually became more clear, more frequent. For the past few weeks they’d even gotten pretty dirty. The more persistent the dreams got, the more Sigurd yearned to talk to this boy, to get to know him. To be his friend (or maybe more). But he couldn’t.

  Highschool was brutal, and reputations mattered if you wanted to survive. Unfortunately, there were few things you could do to damage your reputation more than associate yourself with Eiríkur Steilsson. Everyone picked on the boy. _Everyone._ He was a freak, an outcast. At least that’s what everyone said. To hang around him was social suicide.

  Sigurd didn’t buy any of it of course. Eiríkur seemed like a sweet kid who only wanted to get on with his life. Sigurd knew in his heart that none of what people hated Eiríkur for was his fault, and it truly pained him to watch people treat him the way they did. But there was nothing he could do. To help him would be to seal his own fate.and become a pariah himself.

  Sigurd tried hard to remind himself of that; that there was nothing he could do for Eiríkur. _You can’t help him. You can’t._ That was what his brain told him. That was logic. But his heart knew that was wrong. It screamed at him everyday, _how can you abandon him so easily?_ Oh, his brain and heart were constantly battling over whether to do what was right, or to do what was easy. Sigurd chose the easy way every time.

  Whatever happiness Sigurd felt from his dream washed away when he remembered this. Remembered what an awful person he was. Taking a deep breath to calm himself and to clear his mind of all these dark thoughts, Sigurd began to get ready for school. When he was ready, his mother drove him there, and he began to head for class.

  He couldn’t focus on school. He hadn’t been able to for a while now. All Sigurd could ever seem to think about anymore was Eiríkur. He remembered the day before when he’d bumped into him at the doorway in English. He’d been so shocked to be face to face with the literal boy of his dreams that he hadn’t been able to speak. He’d stared at him, trying to say something, anything, but instead he’d panicked and walked away. _I probably made it seem like I was mad at him or something. He apologized to me and I didn’t say anything! I’m such an idiot._ He thought about apologizing to him, but in order to do that he’d have to find him and talk to him, and someone might see him do that…

   _Have I really become so afraid of what people think of me? Have I stooped this low? How appalling._ He sighed. Ever since highschool he seemed to lose so much of what made him himself. He used to be such an open and compassionate person. He used to help people. Now he couldn’t even stand himself. He knew there was a way to end his self loathing and go back to being his real self. And make his whole school hate him in the process. _Damn it all, I don’t care anymore. Today I’ll do it. Regardless of what anyone thinks of it, I will become friends with Eiríkur Steilsson. If I can’t do that then I’ll have truly lost my grip on who I am._

When Sigurd finally arrived at his English class, his mind was a mess. Part of him was filled with excitement over the prospect of finally getting to know the boy he’d been eyeing for so long. The other part was overwhelmed with the dread of what that would lead to. When Eiríkur walked in, Sigurd’s gut twisted into a knot.

  He kept yelling at himself to walk over and say hi, but he couldn't seem to force his body to get out of his seat. He stayed firmly planted at his desk, staring at Eiríkur from afar. It shouldn't have been this hard. It was a simple task, after all. And yet Sigurd just couldn't do it. He glanced at the clock.

  There only four minutes left until the late bell rang. Sigurd had four whole minutes to convince himself to get up and speak with Eiríkur. Sigurd looked back and forth between the boy and the clock, and gradually four minutes became three, three became two, two became one, and the bell rang. Sigurd never moved an inch from his spot.

  “Good afternoon class. I trust that you all finished reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ last night?” the teacher said questioningly.

  A chorus of unenthusiastic yeses, mixed in with a “no” here and there, resounded throughout the room.

  “Good. Because if you didn't, your final project will be impossible.”

  The whole class collectively groaned. Final projects were the devil.

  “Your assignment is to get in pairs and make an abridged storybook version of the book you read. It should have pictures and visuals, cover all major events, and be written so even an elementary schooler could understand it. I'll pass out rubrics when you've found your partners to give you a better idea of what I mean.”

  “But how are we supposed to make a book full of murders and beheadings kid friendly!” Someone protested.

  “Have faith in your creative ability.” the teacher stated plainly. “Now, when I call your name, you will come to the front and pick your partner. This way I know who's with whom and no one tries to work alone.”

  Sigurd couldn't help noticing the look of pure terror that crossed Eiríkur’s face. He could guess why. Odds were, no one in class would want to pick him, and if his name was called he would be forced to pick someone random. Either option led to awkwardness and embarrassment.

  As the teacher began calling names, and people began picking their partners, Sigurd could swear Eiríkur got even paler than normal. When Sigurd's name was called, he made his way to the front of the class and looked around at everyone. His one friend in the class looked up at him expectantly, and Sigurd shook his head at him apologetically. He already knew who it was he had to pick.

  “I want Eiríkur.” he said. His voice came out quiet and unsure, and most people couldn't make out what he said.

  “Can you repeat that please?” the teacher asked.

  “Eiríkur. I choose Eiríkur as my partner.” Sigurd said, loudly this time.

  “What?!” just about the entire class shouted. Eiríkur stared up at him in disbelief.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself again. I _said_ I want _Eiríkur_.” Sigurd practically hissed. He rolled his eyes, making his irritation known, before taking his seat next to his new partner.

  The class was awkward and uneasy for the rest of the period. For a while Eiríkur and Sigurd worked silently, hardly acknowledging each other’s presence. Eiríkur was the first to break the silence.

  “Why would you do that?” he asked quietly.

  “Hmm?”

  “You know if you stick around me everyone will hate you. Why would you do that to yourself?” Eiríkur wondered.

  “I've decided I don't care much about what anyone thinks anymore. I'll also admit, I've had my eye on you for quite a while. I just couldn't think of the right way to talk to you.” Sigurd shrugged.

  “You...had your eye on me?” Eiríkur questioned.

  “Yes. I know this sounds weird, but I've felt myself being drawn to you a lot lately. You seem like you'd make a good friend. A real friend, not just one that pretends to like you so they don't get caught being a loner.” Sigurd said.

  “O-Oh.” Eiríkur stuttered. Sigurd felt a twinge of happiness at the light pink that dusted the smaller boy’s ghostly pale cheeks. It was...kind of cute. He felt his own face getting hot as he remembered how red the boy’s face had been in his dream last night when Sigurd was doing... _things_ to him.

  “Hey, snap out of it! You're making a creepy face.” Eiríkur’s voice pulled Sigurd out of his daydream.

  “Oh. Sorry. I was just, um, remembering something.” Sigurd apologized.

  “It's alright I guess.” Eiríkur sighed.

  “So, for the project. Would you like to come to my house today to work on it?” Sigurd asked.

  “You're serious? You actually want me there?” Eiríkur seemed shocked.

  “You are my partner aren't you?” Sigurd gave a reassuring half smile.

  “Alright then. What time?” Eiríkur smiled back.

  “Around five thirty sound good?” Sigurd asked.

  “I can make it.” Eiríkur nodded.

  When Sigurd left the class, he felt good. He'd finally done it. Not only had he talked to the cutie he'd been eyeing for ages, but he finally proved to himself that he still had a mind of his own. For the rest of the day he felt invincible, like nothing could go wrong. The rest of the day, that is, until after school. As Sigurd made his way down the hall to the exit, he heard something that caught his attention.

  “Just because that weirdo is being nice to you now, don't go thinking that anyone likes you.” someone said.

  “Yeah, you're still just a freak.” someone else agreed.

  Sigurd turned around to see Eiríkur being cornered by a few kids from English class. Some of them were girls, most were boys. All of them were saying awful things to the poor boy they had pressed against the wall. Eiríkur stared back at them with a bored expression on his face.

  “What, have you gone mute? Say something!” one of the larger boys shouted, shoving Eiríkur back so his head hit the wall behind him. Sigurd winced just looking at it, but Eiríkur didn't even flinch. _He's probably used to it._ Sigurd realized.

  “Don't you guys have parents waiting for you? Quit wasting time.” Eiríkur said. His voice was flat, his eyes cold. Looking at him sent shivers down Sigurd’s spine.

  “Don't tell me what to do!” the same boy from earlier punched him in the gut. Again, Eiríkur gave no reaction.

  “I can't afford to waste time here. Stop getting in my way.” the silver-haired teen growled irritably.

  “Since when were you so tough?” another one of the boys mocked. Everyone laughed. “Do I need to teach you another lesson like I did freshman year?” he asked, grabbing Eiríkur by the collar. The other teens cheered their approval.

  “I really don't care.” the smaller male shrugged.

  Sigurd could not believe how stubborn this boy was. Sigurd pondered his next move. More than anything he wanted to just pull Eiríkur into his arms and run off with him before any more harm could come to him, but he knew that would never work. There was no way he could break through that mob. He couldn't leave him there, though, could he?

  The more Sigurd thought, the more sure he became that there was nothing he could do. He was a fairly big guy, and he was undoubtedly one of the strongest at school, but even he couldn't hope to fight off that many people. He found himself thinking that same cursed thought again, _you can't help him,_ and, like always, he listened to it. Without looking back, Sigurd walked out of the school, and to his mom's waiting car.

  “What took you so long, sweetie?” his mom asked when he got in.

  “Just got stuck in the crowded halls is all.” Sigurd lied. He zoned out after that, thinking about all that had happened that day. Right after he thought he'd actually helped Eiríkur, he went and abandoned him again. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he still felt guilty. He'd just have to find a way to make it up to him, that's all. Then they could be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to be careful and take time writing this well so that the plot actually flows right, while also updating every week. So far so good but it's only been two chapters XD


	3. He's a Tough Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief insight into the life of Eiríkur Steilsson.

  Eiríkur felt his heart sink as he watched Sigurd walk out of the school.  _ What did you expect, idiot? It's not like he actually cares about you. _ He was so distracted he nearly forgot about the crowd of teenagers that were just about ready to kill him. 

  “Listen to me when I'm talking to you!” the boy whose hand was currently gripping his collar yelled. 

  “I told you. I don't have time for this.” Eiríkur rolled his eyes. He had somewhere he had to be, and he didn't have time to be stuck here. 

  “You don't exactly have a choice.” the boy said, glaring at him. Eiríkur glared back before slapping the kid’s hand away. 

  “Look, I don't give a damn what you do to me before or during school, but after school I'm busy. So back the hell off.” Eiríkur said, raising his voice slightly. He pushed his way out of the mob and walked towards the exit. Everyone was too stunned to follow him: this was the first time he'd ever actually fought back. Ever since middle school whenever someone was angry with him, Eiríkur would just stand there quietly and take whatever was thrown at him, so for him to do what he just did was unheard of. 

  Eiríkur hurriedly rushed out of the school and made his way home. He couldn't believe how much time he wasted with those stupid kids at school. Considering the amount of time it takes to walk from school to home, he would probably only have an hour before his dad got home. That meant he had one hour to do all the chores around the house  _ and _ cook dinner or else...well, or else his dad would do it for him. Eiríkur always hated it when he did that. 

  Ever since Eiríkur’s mom died, his dad tried to take on all of the responsibilities himself. He would leave for work before Eiríkur even woke up, and he would come home hours after the teen finished school. Once he got back, instead of relaxing, he would make dinner and clean up around the house. By the time he was done, he would only have time to sleep for four to five hours before doing it all again. 

  For an entire year, Eiríkur didn't try to help. Between coping with his mother’s death, getting beat up at school everyday, and trying to keep up with his classes, he barely paid any attention to how much work his dad was doing all on his own. He never paid attention to anyone but himself. It wasn't until a full year after his mom’s passing that Eiríkur noticed the condition his dad was in. The man seemed to have aged ten years, not just one, and he was constantly getting sick. At that rate he was on track to work himself to death. 

  Overcome by guilt and the fear of losing another parent, Eiríkur took over all the household work. Everyday he rushed home from school so he could take care of all the chores before his father got home. If he took too long and wasn't done in time, his dad would insist on doing the rest, and Eiríkur could never bring himself to argue. 

  Eiríkur was in the middle of cooking when his dad returned home. 

  “Hey dad!” he called out, smiling wide. He always smiled when it was just him and his dad. His dad looked at him with a disappointed expression. 

  “Eirí...I thought I told you to let me take care of cooking. You should focus on your schoolwork.” the man said. 

  “Dad, it's okay. I don't mind staying up a little late to get everything done. You're the one who needs to relax.” Eiríkur responded. 

  “You're just a kid. You shouldn't have to work this hard.” his dad sighed sadly. 

  “No one should have to work as hard as you do, either. And besides, I'm not a kid anymore.” Eiríkur insisted. 

  “You are to me.” his dad countered. 

  Eiríkur sighed and dropped what he was doing. In a rare gesture, walked over and gave his dad a hug. 

  “You don't have to worry about me, okay? I'm a tough kid, I can handle this.” Eiríkur comforted. 

  “I don't deserve to have someone like you for a son.” his dad said, hugging him back. 

  “Nonsense. You're the best dad in the world.” Eiríkur stated proudly. They stayed that way for a while, just silently embracing each other. It was nice having at least one person in the world you could always count on. 

  “Eirí? Promise you'll never leave me.” 

  “Yeah, dad, I promise.”

  It wasn't until after Eiríkur finished making dinner that he suddenly remembered his plans for the night. 

  “Crap! Uh, dad? I forgot to tell you, I'm supposed to go over to a friend’s house to work on a project!” Eiríkur exclaimed. 

  “Aw, you made a friend? I'm proud of you. When are you supposed to be there?” his dad asked. Eiríkur checked the clock.

  “About...half an hour ago.” 

  Eiríkur’s dad laughed and shook his head. 

  “Come on, then. I'll drive you there.”

  “Thanks dad.”

  “No problem.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay dude this is super random and I'm sorry but I got in the most ridiculous argument with my friend and I wanna know if I'm the crazy one for saying that  
> a) Norway would absolutely top anyone regardless of whom he's paired with (except MAYBE Sweden. Maybe.)   
> b) Prussia would totally top Austria.


	4. The Project

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished this chapter early and I was going to wait for the weekend to publish it but then I realized how damn short the last one was and I felt kinda bad so...

  Sigurd paced back and forth in his room, glancing at his clock every few seconds. Eiríkur was supposed to be there forty-five minutes ago. Where could he be? Sigurd felt a combination of panic and guilt begin to swirl in his stomach as he wondered if the reason Eiríkur wasn't there was because the kids at school did something to him. He pictured all the awful things that may have happened to the boy, causing him to pace faster. Sigurd’s heart raced uncontrollably and a sickening anxiety filled him to the brim. Just when he thought he would explode, the doorbell rang. 

  Sigurd ran downstairs, going three steps at a time, and threw the front door open. His fast actions startled Eiríkur, and the small teen jumped slightly as the door opened. 

  “I'm so sorry I kept you waiting.” Eiríkur apologized. “I was really busy and I lost track of time.” 

  “It's alright. I was just worried about you.” Sigurd smiled softly. Eiríkur didn't look anymore beat up than usual. That was a good sign. “Please, come in.” 

  Sigurd admired the shy and hesitant way Eiríkur entered the house. He was so different from the passionate and aggressive boy in his dreams. Eiríkur seemed so small and fragile, Sigurd couldn't help thinking that he would break if he did half the things to this boy as he did to the dream one.

  “Um, Sigurd? You're giving me that weird look again.” Eiríkur notified him. 

  “I am? Sorry.” Sigurd shook his head. What was up with him?  _ I shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about him this frequently. Especially not with him right here!  _

__ “So, about the project…” Eiríkur began to say. 

  “Right. Come with me.” Sigurd gestured to him to follow. He led the way upstairs to his room, resisting the urge to chuckle when he looked back and saw Eiríkur’s face. The boy looked surprised by his surroundings. Sigurd wondered what it was about the house that perplexed him. 

  “This place is huge.” Eiríkur commented. Ah, so it was the size. “How many rooms are in here?”

  “We have five bedrooms and three bathrooms. It's a bit overkill considering it's only me and my parents here, but it's nice having the extra space.” Sigurd told him. Eiríkur looked shocked. “I'm guessing your house isn't very big?” 

  “Nope. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom.” Eiríkur answered. Sigurd was a bit surprised. He wasn't sure he could stand living in such a small place. 

  Once they finally entered his room, Sigurd closed the door and grabbed his backpack. He got out  _ A Tale of Two Cities  _ and sat down on his bed, gesturing for Eiríkur to do the same. Eiríkur sat next to him in that cute, shy manner of his. It seemed he was afraid he might offend Sigurd if he did anything wrong. 

  “You don't have to act so cautious around me. I won't hurt you.” Sigurd said. 

  “O-Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to act like that. I'm really sorry if I offended you…” Eiríkur said nervously. 

  “Don't apologize so much. You have the right to act however you want, you know.” Sigurd smiled reassuringly. 

  “Sorry. Ah! Sorry! I can't help it.” Eiríkur stared at the floor. “It's just...at school, if I make anyone mad then…” 

  “Oh. About that, I'm sorry I didn't help you earlier. I wanted to, really, but I guess I just didn't have the guts.” Sigurd looked at Eiríkur with a genuinely apologetic expression. 

  “Now who's apologizing too much? It's okay, it's not like you could've done anything anyways.” Eiríkur sighed. “Getting back to the matter at hand though, I have to be honest with you. I didn't understand a single word of that book so I'm not going to be very helpful with this project.” 

  “I can handle the project, what matters is if you're okay.” Sigurd said.

  “I got off easy today but I'm probably in for it tomorrow.” Eiríkur shrugged. “Not that it concerns you. Now, what do you think I should do for this book? I can do the drawings if you want.” 

  Sigurd was taken aback. Eiríkur was in a legitimately dangerous situation, and all he was worried about was his homework?  _ He's a lot tougher than he looks, I'll give him that.  _

_  “ _ How about I write a summary of the book and you can help me decide which events to keep and which ones to leave out? Then I can put it in story form and you can draw.” Sigurd suggested. 

  “Sounds like a good plan.” Eiríkur nodded in agreement. 

  As Sigurd started writing the summary, Eiríkur yawned and laid down on the bed. He curled himself into a ball and closed his eyes.  _ Is he seriously going to sleep right now?  _ Sigurd thought. Once again, the blond ignored his work because of Eiríkur. The small teen was just so precious in his sleep! His expression softened and his hair flopped in his face messily, and he never uncurled from the tight little ball he pulled himself into. Sigurd couldn't resist reaching out and stroking the sleeping boy's hair. He smiled when Eiríkur made a soft sound of contentment and leaned into the touch.

__ Eventually Sigurd reminded himself that he had work to do. Unable to help himself, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Eiríkur’s forehead before shifting away from him and writing the summary. He wrote hurriedly, eager to get back to admiring his sleeping companion. Once he finished, he set the paper and pencil down as quietly as he could. He didn't want Eiríkur to wake up just yet. Sigurd couldn't help noticing how Eiríkur’s shirt pulled up slightly when he’d curled up, and he found himself staring at the pale skin it revealed. 

_ I shouldn't. I really shouldn't.  _ Sigurd told himself.  _ But I will.  _ Holding his breath, he carefully reached out touch the skin.  _ My god he's so soft.  _ Sigurd thought. He slipped his hand under Eiríkur’s shirt and gently rubbed circles on his back. It was so soft, and smooth, and warm. Sigurd had to resist the urge to just pull the sleeping boy into his arms. He wanted to hold him, to touch him, to do so many things to him that he knew he couldn't. Sure, he felt guilty always having such twisted thoughts about the boy, but he couldn't help it. Every time he got near him he felt as if some force were pulling him in, like something out there wanted the two of them to be closer. Today was the first time Sigurd allowed himself to give in to that force and  _ fuck  _ did it feel great. 

  Eiríkur began to shift, startling Sigurd and causing him to pull his hand back. It was a good thing too, because within seconds Eiríkur began to slowly wake up. He blinked a few times, stretching out and yawning, before sitting up. Eiríkur glanced around, seeming confused for a moment before making eye contact with Sigurd. 

  “Ah! I-I wasn't a asleep! I was justing resting my eyes a bit that's all.” Eiríkur blurted out. 

_ Yeah right. If you were awake would you have let me touch you?  _

__ “You don't have to lie, Eiríkur. I'm not mad. You've had a long day, you deserved a break.” Sigurd said, patting the smaller teen on the head. 

  Eiríkur pouted and looked away. “You're treating me like a child.” He complained. 

  “That's because you're acting like one.” Sigurd countered. 

  “Am not!” Eiríkur whined.

  “Sure you're not~” Sigurd teased. “Now are you going to look over the summary or what?” 

  “Oh, right. ” Eiríkur took the summary and began reading through it. Sigurd watched how Eiríkur pursed his lips while he concentrated, and how his eyes would narrow every now and then—probably when he had hard time making out a certain word. Sigurd was content to study Eiríkur’s pretty face, but his staring didn't go unnoticed. 

  “Why do you do that?” Eiríkur questioned. 

  “Do what?” Sigurd asked back. 

  “Stare at me all the time. It's creepy.” Eiríkur responded. 

  “No real reason.” Sigurd shrugged. “I just like your face.” 

  Eiríkur’s eyes widened and he lifted the paper he was holding to cover his face.  _ Dammit Sigurd, stop terrorizing the poor boy.  _ Sigurd scolded himself.  _ He'll never be your friend if you keep creeping him out like this!  _

  After a few minutes of crushing silence, Eiríkur set the paper down and sighed. “I think each major event should have two pages covering it. One all words, the other some words with a picture. The only thing I worry about is how to make the death scenes kid-friendly.” 

  “I like that plan. What if we just start the book and worry about the death when we get there?” Sigurd suggested. 

  “Alright. We can do that.” Eiríkur nodded.  

  Since, apparently, the world seems to hate letting them get any work done, they were interrupted before they got a chance to do anything—this time by Sigurd’s mom barging into the room. 

  “Hey sweetie!” she called out. 

  “Mom, remember that time you said you'd start knocking?” Sigurd groaned. 

  “Sorry honey, but I was wondering if you two needed anything to eat or drink.” the woman said, smiling. 

  “No thank you, ma'am.” Eiríkur responded sheepishly.  _ He really is such a child…  _

  “Mom, we're trying to work.” Sigurd shooed her away. 

  “Oh alright, but call me if you need anything!” his mom said before leaving. Sigurd didn't mean to be rude to his mom, but she was always like this! She felt the need to barge into his room twenty times a day to check on him. It got annoying after a while. 

  “Sorry about that, Eiríkur. She's always like that.” Sigurd sighed. 

  “It’s alright.” Eiríkur said. “I think it's nice.” 

  “Nice? Does your mom barge in on you every few minutes? It's frustrating.” Sigurd complained. 

  “I wish.” Eiríkur muttered. Sigurd knew something was wrong when Eiríkur’s eyes began to water. He was going to ask about it, but Eiríkur just turned and began drawing.  _ It's probably a sensitive topic.  _ Sigurd decided. 

  The two boys finally began to work diligently, making good progress on the book. Sigurd was impressed by Eiríkur’s drawing. He wasn't half bad. Sigurd couldn't help feeling like he lucked out and actually got the best partner. Their book was coming out perfectly! It wasn't until two hours and several completed pages later that the doorbell rang. 

  “Eiríkur! Your dad is here to get you!” Sigurd’s mom called. 

  “I'll be down in a minute!” Eiríkur shouted back. 

  “It was nice having you here.” Sigurd said. 

  “Yeah. I had fun.” Eiríkur gathered his things and prepared to leave. 

  “Eirí wait.” Sigurd stopped him. Before he could have time for doubts, Sigurd pulled the smaller teen into a hug. “Be safe, okay?” 

  “Okay…” Eiríkur breathed, obviously surprised. 

  Sigurd frowned as he watched Eiríkur leave. He wished he could stay. Sighed felt a slight pang at his heart when he was left in his room alone. He missed his friend already.  _ I don't…like him, do I?  _ He wondered.  _ No, I couldn't. I barely know him. But then why does he feel so familiar? Why am I so happy when he's here, and so empty when he's not?  _

Sigurd shook his head. He was being ridiculous! There was no way he had a thing for his classmate! His small, cute, smart, shy, perfect little classmate with the pretty face, enchanting eyes, soft hair, sweet voice...wait what was he thinking about again? Oh right. He absolutely did not have a crush on Eiríkur Steilsson.   

  That's what Sigurd kept repeating to himself for the rest of the night.  _ I do not like him. I do not like him. Not at all.  _ He especially thought about it when he went to sleep, hoping to avoid another one of those dreams…

_ Sigurd couldn't see what was happening to him. His eyes were closed, and he couldn't force them open. His body ached, but he didn't know why. He could feel it as blow after blow was inflicted on him, but he didn't know they came from.  _ It hurts. God it hurts so bad. Someone please, please help me!  _ was all he could think.  _

_   “Hey! What d’ya think yer doing? Move it or I'll shoot!” he heard someone shout, accompanied by the sound of a gun being cocked. Suddenly the blows stopped and Sigurd opened his eyes to see a group of teens running away.  _ I was...getting beat up?  _ Sigurd was confused about what just happened, and about where he was.  _ Is this a farm? What am I doing at a farm? 

_ “You okay there, sir? That was some beatin’ ya just took.” the same voice from earlier questioned. Sigurd looked up, and was shocked by what he saw. The person speaking looked just like Eiríkur, except maybe a bit older.  _ Why is he talking like this? And what's with his accent?  _ Sigurd wondered. He sounded like he was from Texas or something.  _

_   “I'm alright.” Sigurd blurted out suddenly. “Thanks for savin’ me. Not that I mind, but what made you decide to waste your time helpin’ a stranger?” He asked.  _

_   Sigurd was taken by surprise once again, this time by his own voice. He had the strange accent too!  _ Oh, I get it. It's another one of those dreams. It feels like they get realer and realer every time. 

_  “Well what kind of jerk would I be if I just stood by and did nothing while someone got hurt? Besides, it was no trouble. I got a gun, don't I?” the man that looked like Eiríkur laughed.  _

_   “Well you sure got a point there.” Sigurd laughed with him.  _

_   “I know this is gon’ sound crazy, but I also had a dream the other night where a fella that looked just like ya went and saved my ass, so it almost seemed like I was meant to come ‘ere and meet ya.” the man said.  _

_   “That so?” Sigurd asked.  _

_   “Yep. It's so.”  _

_    As Sigurd stood up to shake the man’s hand, the world began to blur and fade. Before it disappeared completely, it shifted and changed, morphing itself until Sigurd found himself in a completely new surrounding.  _

_   This time Sigurd was running, but he didn't know what from. He glanced over his shoulder to see a woman chasing after him with a knife. His brain was scrambled, and he was disoriented from being shifted out of his last dream so unexpectedly. He didn't have the slightest clue why he was being chased, only that running seemed like a good plan.  _

_   “Get back here you cheating bastard!” he heard the woman scream.  _ What did she just call me? 

_   Eventually Sigurd ran out of his house, only to trip on a tree root once he was outside. Dammit, the house was in the woods. Who even lived in the woods? His eyes widened in fear and the woman stood over him.  _ Shit shit shit I'm going to die! I'm actually going to die!  _ His fear overrode his common sense and he forgot that it was only dream.  _

_   “Say goodbye.” he heard the woman say. He shut his eyes tightly, accepting that there was nothing left for him to do but be killed. Sigurd winced as he heard the sound of a blade plunging through flesh, and felt warm blood spread across his torso. He was sure he was dead now, yet he felt no pain. He looked up to see someone else had taken the blow for him, and that someone was now bleeding profusely.  _

_   In that moment everything came back to Sigurd. He'd been having an affair with his assistant boy from work, and his wife had found out about it. The boy ran off the second Sigurd’s wife entered the house, but it seemed he returned when he heard the commotion. Now he was bleeding out in Sigurd's arms, and both he and his wife were too stunned to do anything.  _

_   “Why did you come back?” Sigurd asked.  _

_   “I didn't want you to get hurt.” the boy responded weakly.  _

_   “Idiot. Look at you. You're dying.” Sigurd said. He could feel himself start to cry.  _

_   “But you aren't. That's all...all that matters...to...me.” the boy coughed out. Sigurd didn't have to check his pulse to know he was dead. _

__  Sigurd awoke with a jolt, covered in a cold sweat. It was just a dream. _ A dream?  _ It certainly didn't feel like a dream. How could he have dreamt up an entire lifetime in one night? How could all those feelings—the love, the fear, the pain—have all been just a dream? Sigurd felt like his heart had been torn apart. Dream or not, he just watched Eiríkur die—and while saving him at that.  _ Wait, that was Eiríkur? No. No it couldn't have been.  _ Sigurd was confused.  _ It felt like I'd known that boy for years. I've only known Eiríkur for one day. But it did look exactly like him, and I have been getting this weird feeling around Eiríkur lately like I've known him forever. _

__ Sigurd covered in face with his hands, struggling to separate dream from reality. He forced the thought of the second dream out of his head. Thinking about it hurt too much, and it completely messed up his mind. Instead, he thought back to the first dream. Back to the horrible pain he felt when he was getting beat up. 

  “Is that what he has to go through?” Sigurd wondered aloud. “Is that what I've been making Eiríkur endure alone for all these years?” 

  The guilt that came with that realization hit Sigurd like a punch to the gut.  _ A punch to the gut… _ Just yesterday he'd stood there and watched Eiríkur get punched like that.  _ Crud. Now I'm depressed again.  _ Sigurd sighed. He supposed he already knew what he had to do now. He had to start protecting Eiríkur Steilsson. What was with these dreams and getting him to do crazy things he never would have considered otherwise? They were becoming a real nuisance. Sigurd glanced at his alarm clock and saw that he still had one hour left to sleep. Cuddling up under his blanket, he tried to fall back asleep. He could already tell that he was going to be getting himself in some serious trouble at school, but he felt oddly ready for it. 

_ I promise, Eiríkur. I won't make you face anything alone ever again.  _


	5. <Insert Creative Name Here>

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn what happens when you incur the wrath of the quiet kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know, this chapter took forever, I'm sorry. My video game addiction kicked in. I couldn't help it!

  Sigurd felt a bubbly excitement as he set foot on the school campus. As hard as he tried to deny it, he was thrilled to be able to see Eiríkur again. While he walked to his class he found himself looking around for the boy, hoping for an excuse to talk to him. Because they were such good friends, that is. Not because he wanted to hear how high and stuttery Eiríkur’s voice got when he was nervous, and definitely not to admire his blushing face. Not at all. 

  Eventually Sigurd did find Eiríkur, but not in the way he wanted to. He noticed a crowd gathering down one of the hallways and curiously went to examine it. He felt his heart drop to his stomach when he realized what they were all watching. 

  “Class is about to start, leave me alone.” he heard an irritated voice say. Sigurd didn't need to look to know it was Eiríkur’s.

  “Not this time. You're the one who said before and during school we could do whatever we wanted.” some kid whose name Sigurd never bothered to learn replied. 

  Just like the day before, Eiríkur stubbornly refused to act like he cared. Even after being punched in the face, his bored expression didn't change.

  “Fine. Make it quick then, alright? I'm not missing class because of you.” 

  Sigurd silently willed Eiríkur to shut up. It's like he wanted to make things worse for himself! Sheesh! Sigurd cringed when Eiríkur got hit again, and started mentally screaming at himself to do something.  _ You promised, dammit. Promised you would stop standing by like this! There are so many people watching though…Shit that's all the more reason he needs me right now!  _ Sigurd made the split decision to act before he had anymore  time to talk himself out of it. Just as that kid was getting ready to hit Eiríkur again, Sigurd stepped in the way and grabbed his arm. 

  “Leave him alone.” Sigurd said. 

  “What, you're defending this freak now? What's gotten into you lately?” the kid demanded to know. 

  “Don't call him that.” was all Sigurd had to say. 

  “What, a freak? What are you going to do about it?” 

  Now Sigurd was pissed. Without thinking, he decked the kid in the face, sending him flying backwards. He kicked him where no man should ever be kicked, before kneeing him in the chin. The he got carried away—a little  _ too  _ carried away—and next thing he knew the kid was screaming at him to stop and the whole school had gone silent with shock. 

  “S-Sig? Why did you do that? Y-You didn't have to.” Eiríkur said. Sigurd looked at him and smiled. 

  “Something tells me, if our roles were reversed, you would have done the same for me.” Sigurd responded.  _ At least I didn't pull a gun on him.  _

__ “I...I guess.” Eiríkur said. 

  “And besides,” Sigurd stated, “you're really important to me. I can get a little overprotective with things I care about.” 

  As expected, Eiríkur’s face turned a pinkish color, getting redder by the second. Sigurd didn't even care that everyone was watching anymore. Eiríkur’s face, his voice, everything was exactly how Sigurd had wanted it to be, and he was overcome by the sudden urge to kiss him. Feeling confident from everything that’d happened so far, Sigurd reached out and gently cupped Eiríkur’s cheek. He had to resist the urge to laugh when he felt how hot the skin was. Sigurd smiled comfortingly and carefully stroked the small bruise that was forming on Eiríkur’s cheek with his thumb. 

  “Sigurd, what are you doing?” Eiríkur asked. His voice was even higher and softer than usual. 

  “Well, I—” what  _ was _ he doing? He wasn't actually going to kiss Eiríkur in front of everyone like this, was he? He couldn't! Sigurd backed away awkwardly, not sure what to say anymore. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay is all. We should probably get to class now though. See you in English.”

  “Oh, okay. See you then.” Eiríkur responded. The two of them parted ways and hurried off to their classes. 

  Sigurd was fairly certain he wouldn't get in any trouble. Since no teachers saw what happened, the only way they'd find out was if the kid he beat up told them—which would make him a tattletale. No one wanted to be known as a tattletale in highschool. Besides, if the kid  _ did  _ say anything, Sigurd would just inform the teacher or principal or whoever about all the things that brat did to Eiríkur. Then, at least, they'd both go down. 

 Speaking of Eiríkur, Sigurd wanted to punch himself. He wasn't sure if he was more upset that he almost kissed Eiríkur, or that he didn't. It was bad enough that he embarrassed himself, but he didn't even get a kiss for his troubles. Damn. His first couple classes seemed to last an eternity, his desire to see Eiríkur again driving him mad.  _ Why must we only have one class together?  _ Sigurd wondered if he should consider signing up for some advanced classes his senior year. Then he'd be more likely to be in the same class as the boy. He was definitely smart enough, just a bit lazy if anything. 

  After debating it a bit, he decided that yes, it was worth the extra work to see Eiríkur more often. God, when did he get so hooked on this boy? He let himself zone out until the bell rang, then quickly rushed to his English class. Once Sigurd was in class, he plopped down in the seat next to Eiríkur, startling the distracted boy. 

  “Ah! Oh, hi Sigurd. What are you doing in not your seat?” Eiríkur questioned. 

  “Well you're my partner now, so I figured I should start sitting with you.” Sigurd shrugged. 

  “If you say so.” Eiríkur sighed. 

  “How are you feeling?” Sigurd asked. He noticed the bruise on the other teen’s face had darkened. 

  “I've been better. I also could've been a lot worse if it weren't for you, so thanks.” Eiríkur answered. 

  “Anything for you.” Sigurd smiled. 

  “I don't get it though. Why are you being so nice all of the sudden? I didn't even think you knew I existed.” Eiríkur frowned slightly.

  “To be honest, I didn't until a little while ago.” Sigurd laughed awkwardly. “But once I noticed you, you were all I could think about.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” Eiríkur asked, sounding a bit uncomfortable. 

  Sigurd didn't know how to respond. Should he say, “it means I like you?” Maybe, “that I want to be with you.” Or, most accurately, “it means I really want to kiss you right now.” 

  What if he did kiss him? That would get his point across without him having to say anything awkward. Sigurd looked around the room. The class was still half-empty, and the people who were there weren't looking in his direction. He'd probably never have this good of chance again any time soon, and decided that there was no turning back this time. 

  “Sig? Are you zoning out again?” Eiríkur asked. 

  Sigurd ignored him, instead placing a hand on the back of Eiríkur’s neck and pulling him closer. Before the clearly confused boy could ask what he was doing, Sigurd leaned in and kissed him. Sigurd didn't know what he expected the kiss to be like, but it was definitely nothing like what ended up happening. 

  As soon as their lips connected, Sigurd’s brain just about exploded with sounds and images. Different scenes played out before him, and his senses became overwhelmed to the point where he couldn't quite remember where he was, or who he was, or what he was even doing. Then, all at once, his mind cleared, and Sigurd finally understood everything. Finally  _ remembered _ everything. The reason he felt so drawn to Eiríkur. Why the boy felt so familiar. Why all the dreams felt so real. It was because they  _ were  _ real. Or at least they had been, in the past. 

  The two of them had already met countless times over different lifetimes. Sigurd couldn't remember exactly what their first life was, or why they kept being reborn like this, but there were things he did remember. Like the fact that in every single life the two of them would start dreaming about their past lives. That those dreams would lead them to seek each other out. The closer they got the more they could feel themselves being pulled to each other, until they finally found one another. 

  Above everything else, the main thing that stuck in Sigurd’s brain was how freaking much he actually loved this boy. They were soulmates! Sigurd couldn't help feeling lucky. In most lives it was  _ not  _ this easy for them to find each other. They were rarely in the same region, let alone the same school. Sigurd couldn't help how excited he was. He'd finally remembered the love of his life. Er, of his lives. That feeling, however, drained a bit once he snapped out of his thoughts and saw the look on Eiríkur’s face. 

   “Sigurd. What the actual fuck was that?” Eiríkur demanded. His voice wasn't the usual flat, bored tone. This time it was full of anger. 

  “I...I…”  _ What?  _ Sigurd was confused. This wasn't how this normally worked. In every other life, once they kissed they  _ both  _ remembered everything. Why wasn't it working this time?  _ Well if anyone could throw their own fate completely off track out of sheer stubbornness, it was Eiríkur.  _ Sigurd thought. 

  “I have only known you for  _ two fucking days.  _ You think that just because you play nice for a little while then I'm yours? What do you take me for?” now Eiríkur had drawn the attention of the whole class. 

  “Eiríkur Steilsson I will not tolerate that kind of language in my classroom.” the teacher scolded. 

  By now everyone was in class and the late bell had rung.

  “Oh yeah? Well I'm sick of tolerating half the assholes at this school treating me like they can just do whatever they want with me! But you probably don't give a shit.” Eiríkur snapped back. 

  The room filled with a deafening silence. Shock and confusion were thick in the air, as even the teacher was completely speechless. Eiríkur had never been anything but shy, quiet, and generally polite. No one even knew he  _ could  _ swear, so to hear that many profanities at once was completely out of character for him. It was particularly shocking for those of them who'd been there when Eiríkur had snapped at his bullies. This was the second day in a row that the boy was acting like a completely different person. 

  “Eiríkur, calm down.” Sigurd said. Big mistake. 

  “No. No you don't get to talk to me. I'm out of here.” Eiríkur grumbled, grabbing his things and walking out of class. 

  Sigurd was astonished. Just yesterday the two of them had been so happy spending time together. What did he do to make Eiríkur so mad? It was just a stupid kiss. 

  “Eirí wait!” Sigurd called out before chasing after him, leaving a very surprised and confused class behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know that all happened really fast, but I pinky promise I'll explain all of it in later chapters. Starting with why our dear little Eiríkur is so mad.   
> Oh, and if anyone can think of a decent title for this chapter, please help me XD


	6. Friends? Not Really.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same chapter, but from Eiríkur's point of view.

  Eiríkur felt a sickening sense of dread as he stepped foot on campus. Though he refused to let it show, he was terrified to death of the kids that ganged up on him the day before. He'd gotten lucky that the shock factor of his actions had given him an opening to escape. Unfortunately, Eiríkur knew that if they caught him again today, he was screwed. He wasn't even halfway to his locker when he heard a taunting voice saying,

  “Hey freak. I bet you think you're so tough now after that stunt you pulled yesterday. I'm here to prove you wrong.” 

  Eiríkur gulped. He knew he'd get caught, but damn, he wasn't expecting it so soon! He glanced around, trying to see if there was a clear path for him to just run away. There wasn't. 

  “Hey, it really pisses me off when you keep ignoring me like this!” the angry male snapped at him. It was the same kid who punched him yesterday. God did Eiríkur hate this kid. 

  “Please go away.” Eiríkur requested politely. Other teens were already stopping to stare at them. He didn't want this to become a whole big show. 

  “Don't tell me what to do!” the teen shouted, grabbing Eiríkur by the shirt and slamming him into the wall. Eiríkur couldn't help wondering if he should've kept his mouth shut. He felt himself being thrown against the lockers on the opposite wall, and struggled not to cry out.  _ Fuck that hurt… _

  As if the pain itself wasn't crappy enough, now there was a whole crowd gathering around to watch him get beat up. Great. Eiríkur forced himself to keep a neutral expression. The one thing he had, the closest he would ever get to getting back at his bullies, was knowing how much it pissed them off that they could never get a reaction out of him. Besides, keeping a blank face was a skill he perfected years ago. He liked to pretend it was because he was cool or tough or something, but the truth was it was because he was scared. The last time he showed real emotion at school, bad things happened to him—things he didn't like to remember—and he'd been too scared to express himself since. 

  “What, you're not going to talk back this time? Did the crybaby finally stop pretending to be tough?” the kid teased. Eiríkur felt a twinge of anger in his gut. He  _ hated  _ when people called him that. 

  “Class is about to start, leave me alone.” Eiríkur growled. He wasn't really sure why he bothered trying to act strong. He was shorter and thinner than half the girls his grade, and he knew that no one could take him seriously with his accent.

  “Not this time. You're the one who said before and during school we could do whatever we wanted.” the boy standing over him grinned. Eiríkur felt his heart leap into his throat before plummeting into his stomach.  _ Don't let him know how scared you are… _ He kept reminding himself. 

__ Eiríkur was vaguely aware that he was getting punched in the face, but he was too busy panicking internally to really register it. _ Say something idiot! Don't let him think he's intimidating you! Even though he really is…  _

  “Fine. Make it quick then, alright? I'm not missing class because of you.” Eiríkur surprised himself with how calm and almost bored he sounded. 

  This time when Eiríkur got hit, he felt the full force. The burning, throbbing pain in his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts and forced him to focus on his predicament. He wondered how many more hits he'd have to take before the bell rang. Eiríkur flinched just the slightest bit when his assailant pulled his fist back. He closed his eyes and prepared for the next blow…but it never came. Eiríkur risked peeking to see what happened, and nearly gasped at the sight.  _ Sigurd?  _

_   “ _ Leave him alone.” the blond said. He sounded angry. 

_ He's protecting me? He's getting this mad over  _ me?  _ This can't be real.  _ Eiríkur watched the encounter in shock. He could hear the two of them talking, but he wasn't really listening to what they were saying.  _ Why is he doing this?  _

__ Eiríkur missed what it was the boy said, but whatever it was must have pissed Sigurd off because moments later he was beating the living hell out the bully. Eiríkur wasn't sure how to feel. He was relieved that he wasn't getting hit anymore, that was for sure. He was happy to watch his bully get what he deserved, so that was good. But it also scared him that someone could be that much stronger than the guy that had easily flung him across the hall just moments before.  _ Thank God he's on my side.  _

  All the spectators who had been snickering and whispering not a minute earlier were now stunned into total silence. Eiríkur’s bully was on the floor crying, begging Sigurd to leave him alone.  _ Now who's the crybaby? Asshole.  _

  “S-Sig? Why did you do that? Y-You didn't have to.” Eiríkur said.  _ Why is my voice shaking? Why do I stutter like this around him?  _

  “Something tells me, if our roles were reversed, you would have done the same for me.” Sigurd said. Eiríkur wasn't so sure. He preferred to avoid conflict whenever he could, so he couldn't imagine throwing himself in harm's way for someone else. 

  “I...I guess.” he agreed awkwardly. 

  “And besides,” Sigurd stated, “you're really important to me. I can get a little overprotective with things I care about.”

  Eiríkur could not believe what he just heard. He got a tingly feeling throughout his body, like the kind he'd been forced to read about in books at school, where the girl realizes that she's falling for the guy. Wait, did his mind seriously just go there? Gross!  _ Does he really mean it?  _ He couldn't help wondering.  _ Is it possible that someone truly cares about me?  _

__ Eiríkur was startled from his thoughts when a hand gently cupped his cheek.  _ What's happening?  _ He could feel his face getting hotter and he knew that he was probably blushing. He felt a shiver down his spine when Sigurd stroked the bruise on his face. It felt nice somehow. Eiríkur looked into Sigurd's eyes and saw that he was making that same dumb face he always did when he was staring at Eiríkur. 

  “Sigurd, what are you doing?” his voice came out high and soft, embarrassing him to the core.

  “Well, I—” Sigurd cut himself off.  _ Well what?  _ Eiríkur felt a pang of disappointment when Sigurd stepped away. _ “ _ I just wanted to make sure you were okay is all. We should probably get to class now though. See you in English.”

  “Oh, okay. See you then.” Eiríkur said. Once he saw Sigurd turn and start walking away, he sighed and did the same. 

  Throughout the whole day until English, Eiríkur’s mind was in a whirl. He had a real friend who really cared about him. That was all he dreamed about for years. Who ever could have guessed that the asshole that would always ignore him would end up being all he ever wanted? Of course, they didn't know much about each other, and they weren't exactly close, but they were friends. That's all that mattered to Eiríkur at the moment. He couldn't help wondering what caused the sudden change in heart, but Sigurd couldn't possibly have any twisted ulterior motive. He seemed too nice for that. 

  Still, Eiríkur had always been a bit on the insecure side, so his brain was going crazy trying to think of something, anything really, that Sigurd might be planning. Of course all the ideas he came up with were utter nonsense, but nevertheless, he managed to get himself all worked up and on edge by the time he got to English. 

  He sat in his seat and immediately fell back into his thoughts.  _ He's just using you. I don't know how, but he is.  _ He thought. And then,  _ no no, he wouldn't! He's just being a friend. Stop trying to ruin a good thing with your negativity!  _ The half of him that tried to stay positive and the half that was constantly on guard were both fighting for control in his mind.  _ But what if he gets you to open up just to crush you?  _

__ The last time Eiríkur allowed himself to be open with someone, they completely betrayed him and became part of the reason his life was a living hell.  _ But what would he stand to gain from that? Eiríkur you're being ridiculous! Maybe I should push him away while I still have the chance. Just tell him I don't need any friends and go back to being miserable and alone. At least then I won't have to worry about him getting hurt on my behalf.  _

__ Eiríkur had to stifle a scream when Sigurd suddenly plopped down next to him with no warning. 

  “Ah! Oh, hi Sigurd. What are you doing in not your seat?” he managed to say, albeit a bit awkwardly. 

  “Well you're my partner now, so I figured I should start sitting with you.” Sigurd shrugged.  _ Are we allowed to change seats like that?  _

__ “If you say so.” Eiríkur sighed. He sure hoped the teacher didn't get mad. 

  “How are you feeling?” Sigurd asked him.  _ See, you paranoid idiot? He cares.  _

__  “I've been better. I also could've been a lot worse if it weren't for you, so thanks.” Eiríkur answered. 

  “Anything for you.” Eiríkur practically melted when Sigurd smiled at him. 

  “I don't get it though. Why are you being so nice all of the sudden? I didn't even think you knew I existed.” Eiríkur frowned slightly.  _ Whoops. There goes my paranoid side again. _

  “To be honest, I didn't until a little while ago.” Sigurd laughed. He had a nice laugh. “But once I noticed you, you were all I could think about.”

_ What made him notice me? And how long ago? What does he mean when he says he thinks about me? What does he think about me? _

__ “What's that supposed to mean?” he blurted out. 

  Sigurd fell silent and looked away from him. When Sigurd didn't answer, Eiríkur’s brain went into panic mode again.  _ Oh God oh God what if he really does have sort of messed up plan and now that I've asked him about it he doesn't know what to say? But I've never done anything to him. Why would he do this?  _

__ “Sig? Are you zoning out again?” Eiríkur asked desperately.  _ Please just tell me we're friends. Say it and I'll stop freaking out.  _

__ Eiríkur felt a hand on his neck, and out of nowhere Sigurd pulled him close. Before he could even asked what was happening, he felt a pair of lips slam into his. His eyes widened and his mind reeled when he realized that Sigurd was kissing him.  _ Since when did he even swing that way? What is he doing? _

__ “Sig...stop.” he managed to mumbled out. He tried to push the larger male away, but the hand on his neck held him in place. “P-Please stop. Can’t we talk about this?” 

  His hopes of just talking were dashed when Sigurd forcefully deepened the kiss. Eiríkur didn't understand what was happening. He tried his best to push his friend—if he could even call him that anymore—away, but Sigurd's mind seemed lost elsewhere. The blond didn't even seem to notice when Eiríkur hit at his chest weakly to get him away. 

  Then, all at once, Sigurd let him go and sat back. He had a stupid lovestruck look in his eyes, and suddenly the thought that he actually liked this creep made Eiríkur sick to his stomach. 

  “Sigurd. What the actual fuck was that?” he couldn't keep his voice even like usual. Couldn't keep the anger out of his tone. 

  “I...I…” 

  Unbelievable. He couldn't even explain himself.  _ Is that all this was ever about? Does he even think of me as person, or just some object for him to use?  _ Eiríkur wanted to cry, but he masked the feeling with rage. 

 “I have only known you for  _ two fucking days.  _ You think that just because you play nice for a little while then I'm yours? What do you take me for?” he screamed. 

  “Eiríkur Steilsson I will not tolerate that kind of language in my classroom.” the teacher scolded.  _ Why do the teachers never take my side? Do they hate me too? _

  “Oh yeah? Well I'm sick of tolerating half the assholes at this school treating me like they can just do whatever they want with me! But you probably don't give a shit.” Eiríkur snapped back. He was probably in big trouble now, but he didn't care. He was getting tired of everyone thinking it was okay to treat him how they did. 

  “Eiríkur, calm down.” Sigurd said. Well if Eiríkur hadn't completely snapped already, now he did.

  “No. No you don't get to talk to me. I'm out of here.” Eiríkur told him, grabbing his things and walking out of class.

  He was halfway down the hall when Sigurd called out, “Eirí wait!” But Eiríkur didn't feel like waiting. He was hurting. His body, his head, his heart; everything just hurt like hell and he wanted to go home.  _ So much for making a friend.  _ He thought as he stepped outside the school.  _ I should've known. It was always my fate to be alone.  _

  
  If only he knew how wrong he was. 


	7. The Universe Can Suck It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiríkur gives Sigurd a bit of a reality check, and makes an important promise to himself about the future of their relationship.

  Sigurd ran down the hall, desperate to catch up to Eiríkur. He called out to him a few times while he chased after his friend/past lover/whatever-they-were-now-that-he-completely-screwed-up. He caught up to Eiríkur just as the smaller male got outside.

  “I'm sorry about what just happened, okay? I know it seems like we just met, and that I don't know much about you, but I had to do it!” Sigurd shouted. 

  “Oh you had to, did you? That's funny, I don't remember anyone forcing you.” Eiríkur retorted. 

  “You know that's not what I mean. It's just that I felt like I was meant to do it. Like it was fate or something. Eiríkur we're destined to be together, I know it!” Sigurd was beginning to sound desperate. 

  “Fate? Destiny? You sound like a child.” Eiríkur scoffed. “Not that it's surprising that some spoiled rich kid like you would believe in all that fairy tale bullshit.” 

  “Eiríkur please, just listen to me.” Sigurd pleaded. 

  “How much do you even know about me, Sigurd? What's my favorite animal? My favorite color? I personally don’t even know your last name!” Eiríkur yelled.

  “Ugh! What happened to you in this life to make you so impossible!” Sigurd practically screamed in frustration. Eiríkur was a bit startled at first, wondering:  _ What does he mean by this life? _ But he quickly pulled it together and answered.

  “Tch. What didn't happen to me?” Eiríkur muttered. Sigurd fell silent, confusion evident on his face. “Let me tell you something. Do you know why some kids here call me the crybaby?” 

  “I…” Sigurd had heard quite a few people call him that before, but the nickname never made much sense to him. He couldn't remember Eiríkur ever being anywhere close to crying (or showing much of any feeling about anything for that matter).

  “One time in middle school I broke down crying in class. After school I got beat so bad I couldn't go to school for the rest of the week. When I finally got back everyone made fun of me saying I stayed home crying the whole time.” Eiríkur explained. “How dumb is that?”  

  “I-I’m sorry, but what does that have to do with—” Sigurd began to say.

  “Guess why I was crying. Go on, try and guess.” Eiríkur challenged, glaring at Sigurd in contempt. 

  “I don't know.” Sigurd admitted. 

  “I was crying because the night before my mom died.” Eiríkur said, voice shaking. “She fucking died right in front of me, but heaven forbid I cry over it or else I get my ass kicked!” 

  “Eiríkur...I didn't know. I'm so sorry.” Sigurd said, reaching out to try and comfort Eiríkur. Eiríkur growled and slapped his hand away. 

  “Of course you didn't know, that was my whole point. You know absolutely nothing about me, so stop acting like you do.” 

  “But I do. I know you more than anyone else in this world, Eiríkur. I love you!” Sigurd cried. 

_ What the fuck? What did he just say? What is happening?  _ For a moment, Eiríkur’s anger faded into sheer confusion.

__ “Why, because of some fucking dream? Is that why?” Eiríkur asked. That's when all this nonsense started, wasn't it? When he started having those weird dreams?

  “So you  _ have  _ been having the dreams! I knew it!” Sigurd said. “This doesn't make any sense though...if you're having them then why are you being so adamant about us not being together?” 

  “Have you not been listening to me at all?” Eiríkur screamed irritably. “I don't believe in destiny, and I won't fall for you just because some magical force wants me to. You hear me Sigurd? I will  _ never _ love you. _ ”  _

__ The two of them stared at each other in silence for a while after that. Eiríkur was trembling now. He couldn't tell if he wanted to scream or cry. As pissed off as he was, and as much as he wanted to just punch Sigurd in his stupid face, there was a small part of him that wanted to hug him. To cling onto him and cry like there was no tomorrow. Eiríkur hated to admit it, but because of his outburst, Sigurd really was the one person who knew the most about him now. He'd never opened up quite that much to anyone like that before, not even his dad. Never allowed another soul to glimpse at all the pain he kept hidden inside. Why oh why did Sigurd of all people have to be the one that finally got through to him? 

  “Eiríkur? Are you okay?” Sigurd asked. His voice was soft and comforting, and Eiríkur completely lost it. He threw himself at the larger teen, tightly wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his chest. Before he could stop himself, Eiríkur started sobbing uncontrollably. 

  “Whoa there. Everything's okay, I've got you.” Sigurd comforted.

  “I still hate you, asshole.” Eiríkur managed to choke out. “But I hate being so alone…I can't take it.” 

  “Shh. Hey, it's alright.” Sigurd soothed, gently stroking Eiríkur’s hair. Eiríkur would've slapped him for treating him like a child if he wasn't too busy crying.

  “I'm so confused. I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel anymore.” Eiríkur couldn't stop sobbing even if he wanted to. Stupid Sigurd had to go and completely screw up his emotions. Where did he get off making Eiríkur so happy, then so mad, then so annoyingly vulnerable? How could he then, after all that, proceed to go and try to make it all better? Eiríkur couldn't tell if he should thank him or kill him. 

  “You know, if you let me, I would love to get to know you.” Sigurd interrupted his thoughts. 

  “W-What?” Eiríkur stuttered. 

  “You said I don't know anything about you, right? So why don't we fix that?” Sigurd smiled softly. 

  “Fuck you.” Eiríkur sniffled.

  “I’m not hearing a no.” Sigurd smirked.

  “Fine. But we're just friends, got that? If you kiss me again I'll gut you.” Eiríkur hissed. 

  “Deal.” Sigurd chuckled softly. 

  Eiríkur pulled away from Sigurd’s embrace and struggled to wipe his tears away. 

  “Also, if you tell anyone I was crying, being gutted will be the least of your worries.” 

  “It's so weird hearing such nasty things from someone as small and cute as you.” Sigurd teased. 

  “That's it, you're dead.” Eiríkur said, glaring. 

  Eiríkur threw a punch at the larger teen, and was shocked when Sigurd not only caught his arm, but also hugged him in such a way that he couldn't move.

  “That’s not very friendly of you, Eirikur.” Sigurd stated. “And it’s Thomassen, by the way.”

  “What?”

  “My name. Sigurd Thomassen.”

  “That’s a stupid name.” Eirikur joked, hoping to laugh away all the tears that were currently defiling his face. They stayed that way for quite a while. Eirikur decided he rather liked the feeling of being held, and didn’t try to break away from the hug. Now that he calmed down, though, Sigurd’s earlier comment began to get to him. So his suspicions were correct, it seemed, and it was no coincidence that Sigurd started acting all friendly towards him right after he began to dream about him. Before he tried to ignore it, telling himself he was stupid to believe it meant anything, but something about the look on Sigurd’s face and the tone of his voice when Eiríkur mentioned the dreams gave Eiríkur a funny feeling in his gut. 

   Still, Eirikur wanted to hold true to his word. So what if the universe did want the two of them together? So what if some mysterious force was trying to push them towards one another? What had the universe ever done but make his life as wretched as possible? At this point, Eiríkur wanted to do anything  _ but  _ what his stupid fate wanted him to do. Whatever it took, he would not allow himself to be won over by Sigurd Thomassen. 

  For now, being friends was okay though. 

  “Can I walk you home?” Sigurd asked. 

  “What about school?” 

  “Do you really want to go back to class after that?” 

  “No.”

  “Exactly.” 

  And so, the two of them began to walk home together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it was a little on the short side, but give me a break! Unless I change my mind, this story should be more lighthearted from here on out, so yay.


	8. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigurd makes a little progress in his relationship with Eiríkur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back mother fuckers B)

  Sigurd was at a total loss about what to do now. He had to try to figure out a way to win Eiríkur over, even though the boy was dead set on hating him. But what if Eiríkur never got his memories back? Although for now Sigurd was content to just be there for his friend, he didn't know how long could he bear to have his love go unreciprocated. This would probably be easier if he hadn't gone and screwed everything up.

   For one, yelling at Eiríkur about being impossible earlier was a dumb move. Sigurd was also aware that kissing someone without their consent wasn't exactly the most decent thing he'd ever done. He was wrong to have been mad at Eiríkur for getting angry about it. Most of all, he felt bad for assuming he knew Eiríkur. Sure, he'd known him in many past lives, but he knew nothing about  _ this  _ Eiríkur. They'd only been talking for a couple of days, and Sigurd had only just found about Eiríkur’s mom. 

_ Damn. Try and think of people other than yourself once in a while, dumbass.  _ Sigurd chastised himself. He couldn't believe how much of an ass he'd made of himself, or how it had taken getting yelled at for him to realize that, hey, other people have feelings too. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he'd completely neglected to consider how Eiríkur was. Kind of like he was right now. 

  “Sigurd? Hello? Damn, why are you so spacey? You have serious attention issues! Dammit, idiot, stop walking!” Eiríkur had to scream before Sigurd snapped out of it and started paying attention. 

  “What do you want?” He asked, sounding more irritated than he meant to. 

  “We passed my house a full minute ago. I kept trying to tell you but you were ignoring me!” Eiríkur huffed. 

  “Crap! Sorry, Eirí. I was just lost in thought.” Sigurd apologized.

  “Yeah, when aren't you?” Eiríkur turned toward his house.   “Anyways, thanks for walking me home. I, uh, feel a lot safer with you around.” 

  “No problem.” Sigurd smiled. 

  “Oh, and before you go, I want to apologize.” Eiríkur blushed and looked at his feet. “I said some pretty messed up stuff to you earlier, and I didn't mean it. I was just mad, I wasn't thinking.”

  “Eirí, I should be the one apologizing. You had every right to react the way you did, and it's not like everything you said wasn't true. I actually appreciate you giving me a reality check.” Sigurd stated. 

  “Y-You're welcome?” Eiríkur thanked him, feeling a bit confused. “Well, see you tomorrow.” 

  “Wait!” Sigurd stopped him as he turned back towards his house. 

  “What is it?” 

  “You have a lot of chores and stuff to do, right? Maybe I could help you with them. I still feel like I owe it to you after what I did.” Sigurd volunteered.

  Eiríkur paused for a moment, considering this. “Just don't break anything, got it?” 

  “Got it.” Sigurd nodded before following Eiríkur home. 

  Even though he knew it would be considerably smaller than his own home, Sigurd didn't realize the house was  _ this  _ small. It wasn't just short on space, it also had a low ceiling. Eiríkur was short enough that it didn't seem to bother him, but as tall as Sigurd was, his head was only about a meter from the ceiling . 

  “Sorry it's a little cramped in here. I forgot how big you were.” Eiríkur said, looking up at Sigurd. 

  “It's no problem at all.” Sigurd lied.

  “If you say so.” Eiríkur was clearly embarrassed about his home, and Sigurd felt guilty. It’s not like it was his fault he lived here. “If you could dust everything in the living room, I'd really appreciate it.” Eiríkur requested. 

  “Sure thing.” Sigurd agreed. Eiríkur tossed him a rag and he went off to dust. He took advantage of this cleaning time to go back to his earlier thoughts.  _ Maybe if I could get  _ him  _ to kiss  _ me  _ then he'll remember. But how the hell am I supposed to do that?  _ Sigurd racked his brain trying to make a game plan, but ultimately came up with nothing. He never was known for being much of a romantic.

  Sigurd finished dusting and walked into the kitchen to find Eiríkur doing dishes. He was amused by the way the boy hummed softly and rocked side to side. His amusement, however, gave way to a different emotion entirely when his eyes fixated on the way Eiríkur’s hips swayed while he worked. No doubt the boy didn't even realize what he was doing, but watching him was driving Sigurd mad. His condition was made worse by his large cache of memories of all the things he  _ used  _ to be able to do to the beautiful, clueless, boy standing before him. 

  When Eiríkur finally finished and turned around, he yelped and fell backwards upon realizing he was being watched. 

  “How long have you been there?” he asked sharply.

  “I-I just got here. I'm done dusting.” Sigurd hoped Eiríkur would believe him. 

  “Oh. Alright then. Can you sweep up in there while I mop this room?” 

  “Of course.”

  The two of them spent the next hour cleaning together until the house was sparkling clean. 

  “Dad’ll be so happy.” Eiríkur smiled widely. “Until he finds out I ditched school, that is.”

  “I'm sure if you told him why he'd understand.” Sigurd stated. 

  “He'd also probably never let me get anywhere near you again. Which is a problem because you're kind of my English partner.” Eiríkur pointed out. 

  “We'll figure something out.” Sigurd comforted. 

  “I guess you're right. Do you want something to eat or drink? I feel rude not offering considering you just cleaned half my house…” Eiríkur offered. 

  “By any chance, do you have soda?” Sigurd asked. 

  “Duh. Who doesn't?” Eiríkur replied, grabbing a couple cans of coke from the fridge. 

  “Um, me? My parents have this whole thing about it being evil because it's so unhealthy and all. It's been  _ years  _ since the last time I had any.” Sigurd said. 

  “Seriously? You are living in hell, Thomassen.” Eiríkur chuckled, handing Sigurd a can. “Rich people are so weird.” 

  Sigurd blushed as he opened the can. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Against his will, he let out a childish squeal after taking a sip. 

  “What was that sound you just made?” Eiríkur laughed. 

  “I'm happy, okay? This thing tastes amazing.” Sigurd sighed contently. 

  “And you say I'm the childish one~” Eiríkur teased, beginning to drink his own soda. 

  “You are.” Sigurd insisted. 

  “Am not!” Eiríkur argued. 

  “You're being childish right now.” 

  “Yeah well…” Eiríkur pouted and smacked Sigurd with his sleeve before huffing and crossing his arms. 

  “Hey Eirí, I've been meaning to ask. Why do you always wear a long sleeve? It's hot as hell outside.” Sigurd questioned. 

  “I have a stupid skin condition where I'm ridiculously sensitive to the sun. My options are either cover up or burn.” Eiríkur explained. “You probably didn't even notice, being the way you are, but that's why I was also using my folder to shade my face earlier. I think I already burned slightly from wasting time yelling at you earlier…”

  Now that he mentioned it, Sigurd did notice that Eiríkur’s face seemed pinker than usual. Dang, it must suck burning that easily.

  “It must be hard walking to and from school in the sun.” Sigurd commented. 

  “Yeah, it is.” Eiríkur conceded. “But what else am I supposed to do?”

  “I could talk to my mom about picking you up in the morning. This place is a little out of the way and I'd have to wake up earlier, but I wouldn't mind.” Sigurd proposed. “I could probably take you home, too.”

  “Y-You would do that for me?” Eiríkur asked. 

  “I'm your friend, aren't I?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” 

  The two of them hung out in silence as they finished their drinks. Sigurd yawned, and after throwing his can away he walked into the living room and flopped down on the couch. 

  “My turn to sleep in your house.” he mumbled, closing his eyes. He passed out before Eiríkur could protest. 

  The way Sigurd slept was opposite of Eiríkur. While the smaller teen preferred to be curled in a ball, he liked to be sprawled out, and he took up nearly the whole couch.

  While Sigurd slept, Eiríkur busied himself doing his math homework. He was enjoying the comfortable silence, when Sigurd started to make noises. 

  “Mmm...don't stop…” the older teen murmured.

  Eiríkur froze in shock.  _ He's not seriously having a dream like  _ that  _ in my house, is he?  _ he thought frantically. The string of dirty phrases that spilled from the other teen’s mouth answered that question. Eiríkur turned beet red and promptly tried to wake his friend up. 

  “S-Sig. Please wake up.” he said, gently shaking his arm. Sigurd didn't wake up. “You're seriously creeping me out here!” 

  Eiríkur stood and shook him more roughly, desperately trying to wake the teen up before the noises got to him. He gasped when, in his sleep, Sigurd grabbed onto his collar and yanked him down. Never in a million years did Eiríkur expect to find himself laying on top of someone who was having a dirty dream. He listened to the sounds coming from his friend and tried  _ very  _ hard not be aroused by them. It wasn't until he felt a hand roughly kneading his ass that he decided he needed to end this  _ now.  _

  Eiríkur reached beside him and grabbed a pillow, using it to smother his sleeping companion. Within a matter of seconds, Sigurd jolted awake, knocking the pillow away. For a moment the two of them just stared at each other until Sigurd’s brain processed what was happening. In that instant he blushed brighter than Eiríkur and covered his face with his hands. 

  “Please tell me that what I think just happened didn't happen.” Sigurd muffled. 

  “If you think you had a dirty dream on my couch and then proceeded to grope me in your sleep, then I cannot tell you that.” Eiríkur responded. He slowly pushed himself up and off of Sigurd. 

  “Crud, Eirí I am so so sorry. I can't remember the last time I did something this embarrassing.” Sigurd said. 

  “Probably never.” Eiríkur laughed softly. “It's okay, really. I mean, we're seventeen. It's not surprising.”

  “So you're not mad?”

  “Unless you can honestly tell me that was all on purpose, then no. I'm not mad.” Eiríkur assured him. Then a thought crossed his mind. “You weren't dreaming about me though...right?”

  “Should I be honest, or lie for the sake of not making this awkward?” Sigurd responded. 

  “The lie would be nice, thanks.” 

  “In that case, no, I was not dreaming about pounding you into my mattress.” Sigurd deadpanned. 

  “You didn't have to be that specific!” Eiríkur wailed, burying his face in a pillow. Sigurd chuckled.  

  “Sorry, I couldn't resist.”

  “You're just lucky my dad wasn't around to hear any of that. He'd kill you.” Eiríkur informed. 

  “So I shouldn't act like a teenager around your dad, got it.” 

  “Yeah, please don't.” 

  “Well...I should probably go now.” Sigurd suggested. 

  “Yeah, I guess.” Eiríkur agreed. He walked him to the door and waited as Sighed got his things and got ready to leave. “Thank you for walking me home, and for helping me around the house.” 

  “No problem. If you ever need my help again, don't be afraid to ask.” Sigurd replied. 

  “And if you ever need a nap again, don't do it in my house.” Eiríkur said, smirking. 

  “Gotcha.” Sigurd laughed, turning to leave. 

  “See ya later, Steilsson.” 

  “Goodbye, Thomassen.” 

  Sigurd sighed contently as he began his walk home. Despite the intense embarrassment of the whole dream situation, the day had gone really well. So Eiríkur wasn't mad at him anymore. That was a step forward. Now all he had to do was make the boy actually like him. After how this day went, Sigurd began to feel confident that he could find his way into the stubborn boy’s heart. No matter how long it took, he  _ would  _ gain his love’s affection once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't be able to update as regularly as I had in the past, but I'm finally back to writing! I know this chapter was short, but damn was it fun to write. I hope you liked it XD


	9. Best Friends Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiríkur is more confused than ever about his relationship with Sigurd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upside: I finished this chapter in a timely fashion.  
> Downside: I did so by completely procrastinating on my summer homework.

   Eiríkur had a hard time sleeping that night. Surprisingly, his dad didn't seem bothered by him ditching school. He simply thanked him for cleaning the house and said, “well you've been under a lot of stress lately, you needed a day off.” Though that was one load off his shoulders, he still had other concerns. His dad might not be mad, but he would probably be in trouble at school.

  However, the main thing weighing on his mind of course, was Sigurd. He couldn't tell how he felt about the other teen. The blond was a jerk on every level, but he was also sweet. Eiríkur had always wanted a friend, and Sigurd was willing to fill that role. After yesterday, though, Eiríkur was seriously doubting his intentions.  _ Is he being nice because he wants to be friends, or is he just trying to get into my pants?  _ He wondered. It was a valid question. Not only did Sigurd kiss him, but that dream made it pretty clear that the blond didn't see him as just a friend. 

_ How can I be friends with him knowing how he feels? It'll be so awkward. What if he ditches me the second he realizes that this relationship isn't going anywhere? _ Eiríkur groaned miserably. He didn't want to be with Sigurd, but he didn't want to be alone either. He could always pretend to return the other male’s feelings, but that just seemed immoral.  _ If the day comes that I have to choose between being in a relationship I don't want, or being friendless and alone, what am I supposed to do? _

__ Eiríkur curled tightly around his pillow, trying to get comfortable. Maybe he was overthinking everything. Maybe they could just be normal friends. All he could do was wait and see. Hoping that that was the case, he shut his eyes and drifted to sleep. 

_ Eiríkur was waiting in line at the store when he showed up. A tall blond pulled him to the side, away from the other customers. Eiríkur was startled, but not scared. He felt a strange pull towards the other man, and he stared up at him expectantly.  _

_   “Do you believe in soulmates?” the man asked him.  _

__ Of course not. 

_ “What do you mean?” _

__ Ah, so it's another one of those dreams…

_ “Do you believe that there's one person in the world that you're destined to be with?” _

_   “Y-Yes.” _

_   “I know this must sound crazy, but I've been dreaming about meeting you for ages. I think that maybe—” _

_   “We're supposed to be together?”  _

_   “Exactly.” _

_   “I think so too.”  _

_   “Then can I kiss you?” _

_   “Yes.”  _

_   Much to Eiríkur’s displeasure, he got on his tiptoes to kiss the strange man.  _

__ Ugh. This is so stupid. Like I'd ever do something this ridiculous.

_ As soon as their lips touched, everything went black. Eiríkur wasn't sure what was happening, but when he came to he was making out with the stranger.  _

__ What the fuck?

_ “I can't believe it's really you!” he giggled.  _

_   “I never knew I could miss someone so much without even knowing them.” the man laughed.  _

_   “It's good to finally see you again.”  _

_   “Likewise.”  _

_   Eiríkur walked out of the store with the man, his groceries long forgotten. All he cared about was being with him.  _

__ Eiríkur punched his alarm when it went off. “Dammit. I was a having a good dream…” he mumbled. He was expecting to forget it as he got up and got ready, like how dreams normally worked, but quite the contrary happened. He started to fixate on more and more of the minor details of it, thinking about how it related to Sigurd. 

  It couldn't just be a coincidence that  _ that  _ was what he dreamed about on the same day he screamed about not believing in destiny. Not to mention the fact that Sigurd had mentioned something about dreams. Also the way they suddenly acted like they'd known each other for ages right after kissing was just like what Sigurd had done…Was there something here he was missing? Some crucial information that he missed during the part of the dream where he blacked out?

  “Should I...kiss him?” Eiríkur asked no one in particular. He couldn't help wondering if all his questions would be answered if he just kissed the other teen. He slapped himself for even considering it. “What am I thinking? Shit, his stupidity is contagious.” 

  He stomped down the stairs and grabbed his bag, dreading going back to school. He pulled the door open, only to gasp in shock when he found Sigurd standing on the other side. 

  “Oh, I got here just in time. I realized I had no way of contacting you to let you know my mom was cool with picking you up, so I figured I’d try to get here before you took off.” Sigurd explained. 

  “You didn't have to…” Eiríkur replied.  _ He and his mom are both doing all this for me? But why? _

__ “I wanted to.” Sigurd dismissed. He led Eiríkur to his car and opened the door for him.

  Eiríkur got in and greeted Sigurd’s mom, who responded cheerily. “You're so polite and cute! I think you might just be my favorite out of all of Sigurd’s little friends~” 

  “T-Thank you ma’am.” Eiríkur thanked, his face going red. 

  “Mom, you're being embarrassing!” Sigurd cringed. 

  “Sorry sweetie, your friend here is just so lovable.” his mom giggled. 

  “Hey mom? Can we go to the café? School doesn't start for another hour and I kind of skipped breakfast.” Sigurd requested. 

  “Of course, honey. I sure hope you plan on buying something for little Eiríkur here.” she agreed. 

  “Well yeah! I'm not that rude.” Sigurd pouted like an indignant child. Eiríkur tried not to laugh. 

  They drove to a café located about a mile from the school. When they arrived, Sigurd got out of the car, motioning for Eiríkur to follow. Eiríkur was a bit confused when they walked in alone, but Sigurd explained that his mom preferred to wait in the car. 

  “Order anything ya want. I'm buying.” Sigurd told him.

  “Are you sure?” Eiríkur asked hesitantly.  _ If we're eating out alone together and he's paying for it, does that make this a date? It feels like a date.  _

  “Yes. Are you okay though? You look nervous.” Sigurd questioned. Eiríkur jumped at the accusation. 

  “I-I’m not nervous. Why would you think that?” he practically shouted, trembling nervously. 

  “Hey, if you're worried about the money it's no big deal. It's not like anything at this place costs all that much.” Sigurd patted his shoulder. 

  “Okay…”  _ That's not what's bothering me, idiot.  _

  Eiríkur ended up getting a bagel and an espresso, while Sigurd opted for a scone and a cappuccino.

  “So, how'd it go with your dad yesterday? My parents didn't even seem to care that I ditched school.” Sigurd asked. 

  “He didn't mind. He was just thankful about the house being so clean. I guess it's because this is the first time I've ever really broken a rule before.” Eiríkur said.

  “You've seriously never broken the rules? At all?” Sigurd was astonished.

  “I've never had a reason to.” Eiríkur shrugged. 

  “Wow, you really are perfect, aren't you?” Sigurd commented. 

  Eiríkur blushed at the compliment. He was still getting used to someone actually saying nice things about him. “I try.” 

  The two chatted about their parents and how they were probably screwed once they got to school while they had their breakfast. 

_ Damn.  _ Eiríkur thought.  _ I'm not supposed to enjoy being around you this much.  _

__ “We should probably head to school now.” Sigurd pointed out.

  “Yeah, probably.” Eiríkur agreed. 

  They got up and went back to the car. When they arrived at the school, Sigurd wrapped his arm around Eiríkur’s shoulders and began walking with him to class. 

  “What are you doing?” Eiríkur asked nervously. 

  “Walking you to class, obviously. I plan on sticking around you whenever I can so people will stop bugging you.” Sigurd answered. 

  “You don—”

  “And before you say I don't have to, I'm telling you that I want to. As long as I'm around, you don't have to go through anything alone, okay?” 

  “Okay.” Eiríkur nodded.  _ He's so warm… _ Without realizing it, Eiríkur leaned against the taller male and closed his eyes. The closeness made him feel cozy and safe. 

  “Um, Eirí? I don't know where your class is, and I can't exactly follow you if your eyes are closed.” Sigurd shook him gently. 

  Eiríkur jolted, opening his eyes. “Right. Sorry.” He led the way to his class, pausing outside the door. 

  “Why'd you stop?” Sigurd questioned. 

  “N-No reason.”  _ Totally not because I'm not ready to leave you.  _ “See ya later.” 

  “See ya.” 

  Eiríkur sighed when he was left alone. He made his way to his seat and rested his head on his desk. He had a funny feeling in his stomach, and he didn't like the fact that his heartbeat wouldn't slow down.  _ What the hell is going on with me?  _

__ Eiríkur was finally starting to relax, when the bell rang and an announcement was heard over the loudspeaker. 

  “Eiríkur Steilsson and Sigurd Thomassen report to the office, please.” 

_ Shit!  _ Eiríkur felt so many levels of uncomfortable as he walked out of his classroom. He could feel everyone staring at him. Eiríkur walked quickly, keeping his head down. He was paying so little attention to how he was walking that he ran right into Sigurd in the hallway. 

  “Didn't think we'd be seeing each other again so soon.” the blond joked. 

  “We are so dead.” Eiríkur groaned.

  The two of them rushed to the office building, where they were lead to the principal's personal office. Sigurd sat calmly, staring at the principal with no shits given. Eiríkur stared at the floor and trembled in his seat.    

  “Do you two know why you're here right now?” The principal asked. 

  “Ditching school, right?” Sigurd answered. 

  “I'm sorry sir! It won't happen again.” Eiríkur apologized. 

  “Well at least one of you has some respect.” The principal sighed. “But I hear you two started making out in class before running off together. It was a serious disruption.” 

  “That's not what happened!” Eiríkur yelled, blushing madly. 

  “It's not?” The man questioned. 

  “H-He just kissed me for no reason so I left to get away from him! It's not like I asked him to follow me!” Eiríkur practically screamed.  _ That's right...he's a total asshole. See, I don't like him, I hate him.  _

__ “This true?” 

  “Yes.” Sigurd admitted guiltily. 

  “Fine then. Under the given circumstances, I don't blame you for leaving class Mr. Steilsson. However, I can't excuse you for ditching the rest of the school day.” the principal stated.

  “Yes sir.” Eiríkur mumbled. 

  “Still, you are a first time offender, so I'll let you off easy. Just go to room 3-E for detention after school, okay? You'll only have to stay for half an hour.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Eiríkur smiled politely.

  “And you, Sigurd. I'm astounded that you would do something so depraved. Along with having detention for the rest of the week, I would like you to see the school counselor before classes start tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Fine.” 

  “Get back to class.” the principal ordered. 

  “Yes sir. Have a nice day.” Eiríkur said, hurrying to get back to class. Sigurd followed him silently. 

  “You don't have to be so polite with that guy. He's a dick.” Sigurd informed him.

  “Huh? He seemed nice to me.” Eiríkur responded. 

  “I don't like him.” Sigurd grumbled.

  “You're just mad because you got in more trouble than I did.” Eiríkur teased. 

  “Yeah, sure. We'll both be stuck in detention today, though.” Sigurd complained.

  “Yeah. This is all your fault, you know.” Eiríkur accused. 

  “I blame you. I wouldn't have had to kiss you if you weren't so cute.” Sigurd shrugged. 

  “Stop that!” Eiríkur stipulated.

  “Stop what?”

  “Talking to me like that. Just get over me already! Look, I sincerely appreciate everything you've done for me, and I'm happy to finally have a friend. But why can't we just be that? I just want to be your friend…” Eiríkur pleaded.

  “I can't do that.” Sigurd refused. “Even if we are just friends forever, or even if you decide you're sick of me and you hate me, I'll never get over you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I already told you, I love you.” 

  “No you don't. Stop saying that.” Eiríkur’s eyes began to water.

  “It's true.”

  “Shut up.” 

  “Eirí…” 

_ You should kiss him _ . A voice in the back of Eiríkur’s brain told him.  _ Everything will make a lot more sense if you do.  _

  Eiríkur grabbed a hold of Sigurd’s shirt and pulled him down so they were eye level. He reached a trembling hand out to grab the back of Sigurd's head and pull him even closer so their lips were almost touching. 

_ Come on, you can do this. Just close your eyes and it'll be over before you know it.  _

__ Eiríkur leaned forward until they were only a millimeter apart. He was grateful that Sigurd knew better than to close the gap without asking, and that he didn't try to pull away either. Everything was up to Eiríkur to decide, something he wasn't used to. He took in a shaky breath and closed his eyes.  _ I can do this… _ He turned his head and sighed.  _ No I can't. _

__ “I-I’m sorry, I don't know what got into me. It won't happen again.” Eiríkur apologized. 

  “Don't worry about it.” Sigurd said, standing up straight. “We should get to class.” 

  “Yeah. Bye Sig.” Eiríkur turned towards his class. 

  “Bye.”

  Eiríkur walked back to his classroom and took his seat. He was so lost in his thoughts he barely even registered the glares from all his classmates.  _ I actually almost did that. Why did I almost do that!  _ He pounded his head against his desk. He couldn't believe his resolve broke so easily.  _ What is it about him that keeps messing with my  head?  _ He kept asking himself that for the rest of class, but came up with nothing.

__ Eiríkur’s first three periods went by just fine: those were the ones he didn't miss. Walking into English class was a nightmare. It was a barrage of insults and death glares from the second he stepped foot through the doorway. He was used to this kind of thing in halls, but classrooms were supposed to be his safe place…

  All at once, the insults stopped, replaced by fearful murmurs as Eiríkur felt an arm slip around his waist. He didn't even have to look up to know it was Sigurd. 

  “You really shouldn't come in here without me.” the blond advised.

  “Sorry.”  _ Why am I apologizing?  _

  The class was silent as Sigurd pulled Eiríkur along to his desk, the two of them sitting closely together. The teacher eyed them with disgust—whether it was because they were gay, or simply because they'd disrupted class, Eiríkur couldn't tell. Sigurd stuck his tongue out mockingly. 

  “You're gonna make them mad!” Eiríkur whispered sharply. 

  “Who cares.” Sigurd responded. 

  “I...I guess I don't.” Eiríkur admitted. 

  They were given a full class period to work on their projects, which Eiríkur deeply appreciated. What he did not appreciate was the fact that Sigurd insisted on keeping his arm wrapped around him all period. He knew it was unreasonable to feel this way, but Eiríkur hated being treated like he needed protection. He was supposed to be a grown up, dammit! He couldn't depend on Sigurd to defend him forever. 

  Eiríkur frowned as he worked on his drawings. He wished he could be more like Sydney Carton, his favorite character. Someone who could take care of himself (and others) despite his crappy life.  _ It's no fair.  _ He thought miserably.  _ Sigurd and I are the same age, aren't we? Why does he get to be the strong one and not me? _

__ Eiríkur shook his head in frustration. Overthinking things would solve nothing, although at least he could say he was way better at doing his work and paying attention. By coincidence, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a weight on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Sigurd passed out and using him as a pillow.  _ Oh yeah, he woke up early so he could pick me up. I should probably let him sleep.  _

  It was less than a minute after he'd made that decision when Eiríkur realized that major flaw in his judgement. Letting  _ Sigurd  _ of all people fall asleep in  _ public.  _ Before his friend had the chance to publicly humiliate himself, Eiríkur shook him awake. 

  “Five more minutes…” the blond mumbled. 

  “Fine, sleep talk in the middle of class for all I care.” Eiríkur rolled his eyes. Sigurd shot up immediately. 

  “I'm up.”

  “Welcome back.” Eiríkur laughed softly.

  Eiríkur could feel people glaring at them, but he didn't care. Being judged didn't bother him as much now that Sigurd was with him. The feeling of being singled out is what always made him uncomfortable, but knowing that he wasn't the only one anymore was oddly comforting. 

  The two of them managed to get just over halfway done with the book when the bell rang. It was lunch time now, and Eiríkur made a beeline for his favorite little isolated corner just outside the school. Technically no one was allowed outside a certain boundary line at lunch, but Eiríkur had learned his freshman year that no teachers or hall monitors ever checked this one area, so he claimed it as his own. He was shocked, however, when he turned around and realized Sigurd had followed him.

  “What are you doing here?” Eiríkur inquired. “Don't you have other friends?” 

  “More like acquaintances.” Sigurd corrected. “Remember when we first started talking, how I told you I wanted a real friend? I don't want to keep hanging around a bunch of morons just to fit in. I want to be around you.” 

  “You sure? You'll be officially joining the outcast party.” Eiríkur warned. 

  “I am the life of every party.” Sigurd quipped. 

  “Somehow I highly doubt that.” Eiríkur smirked. “So...best friends?” 

  Though Sigurd’s expression didn't change, Eiríkur couldn't help noticing the sadness in his eyes. 

  “Yeah. Best friends.” Sigurd agreed. 

  Eiríkur smiled.  _ I was worried for nothing.  _ He thought.  _ We'll be just fine.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not only did I not do any of my homework this week, but I also started writing another story. I have issues man.


	10. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys can't seem to stop getting in trouble.

__ Eiríkur was wrong. Everything was very not fine. Well it was between him and Sigurd, but not in his life right now. He growled as he was hit in the head with an eraser for the third time. He thought class was bad, detention was even worse. It was basically the same thing except he was surrounded entirely by kids who had no worries about getting in trouble. 

_ Ignore them.  _ He told himself.  _ If you react, they win. You only have twenty minutes left until you can leave.  _ He was struggling to keep his temper in check, when he felt a pencil hit his shoulder. Eiríkur didn't even know he was capable of feeling this homicidal before this moment. He glanced desperately at Sigurd, who sent him an apologetic look from across the room. There was a strict “no talking” rule in detention, so the teacher had forced the two of them to sit on opposite sides of the classroom.

  “Pssst. Hey freak. C’mon, quit ignoring me.” the guy behind him whispered. 

_ What the fuck does he want? I don't even know him.  _ Eiríkur pointedly ignored him. He didn't want to get into even more trouble because of some idiot. 

  “So, what's the deal with you and Sigurd?” The nuisance continued. “You his bitch now?”

  Eiríkur jolted. “Don't call me that.” 

  “Steilsson! What have I said about talking in my classroom?” The teacher scolded. 

  “Sorry ma’am.” Eiríkur apologized. 

  “Awww how cute.” his tormentor didn't let up. “Little freak has no backbone.” 

_ Why isn't he getting yelled at? Is this teacher selectively deaf? _

__ “I'm not surprised. You're just a dumb fag after all.” 

  Eiríkur gasped audibly. He'd had more than a few insults hurled his way in the past, but no one dared called him  _ that  _ before.  _ Do people really hate me that much?  _

__  “What the fuck did you just say to him?” Sigurd suddenly stood up, slamming his hands against his desk. 

  “Sigurd Thomassen how dare you speak like that in my class.” the teacher reprimanded.

  “ _ I’m  _ the one out of line here? Are you selectively deaf or just a bitch?” Sigurd retorted. “And you!” He glared at Eiríkur’s bully. “If you say anything like that to him again I swear on every god out there that I will break every fucking bone in your body!” 

  Eiríkur was in shock. He'd seen Sigurd angry before, but not like this.  _ Since when did he ever swear? Is he really getting like this for me?  _ The realization gave him a warm fuzzy feeling. 

  “Oh yeah, tough guy? Isn't your dad a politician? It wouldn't look so good if his son got in a fight at school. Especially not over a boy~” the asshole taunted.  _ Who is this guy? How does he even know this crap? _

__ Sigurd said nothing in response. 

  “Nothing to say, hmm?”

  Eiríkur was getting fed up. He slowly unzipped his backpack and started feeling around as he watched his tormentor approach Sigurd. 

  “That is it. You two stop it right now!” The teacher yelled. No one was listening. Everyone in the room was watching the two boys, chanting “fight!” over and over. One of them even went as far as to use the classroom’s wall phone to call up their friend and ask them to bring their digital camera. 

  “So? You wanna fight me or not?”

  Sigurd stood still, not saying anything. He looked stuck, defeated. He had no way of countering, not without jeopardizing his dad’s career. Eiríkur wrapped his hand around the object he was looking for and pulled it out. 

  “Fine then. Just stand there.” the whole class, even the teacher gasped as the jerk slapped Sigurd in the face. Sigurd flinched but couldn't do anything. “Wow, still nothing? Let's see how many times I can hit you before you snap.” 

  Just as he was about to Sigurd again, Eiríkur called out, “hey asshole, turn around!”

 As soon as the teen whirled around, Eiríkur slammed his AP Bio textbook into his face. Blood flew as a tooth was knocked out. The offending teen crashed to the ground unconscious, leaving a whole room in shock. 

  “Eiríkur…” Sighed gaped. 

  “That asshole wasn't gonna play fair, so neither was I.” Eiríkur looked down, refusing to make eye contact with the taller male. 

  “Never thought I'd see the day where you had to come to my rescue.” Sigurd laughed. 

  “Hey, I can be strong too.” Eiríkur proclaimed proudly.  _ That's right, I'm not the weak one. _

  “That you can.” Sigurd pulled him into a hug. “Thanks.” 

  “You're welcome.” Eiríkur hugged back. 

  “Whenever you two are done, I want you to march straight to the principal's office. I cannot believe you had the audacity to start such a scene in my classroom.” The teacher commanded. 

  Eiríkur and Sigurd exchange a look that said “not again” before nodding and heading to the principal’s office for the second time that day. By the time they got there, the teacher had already called the principal to alert him of what happened.

  “You two just can't stay out of trouble, can you?” The man sighed. “Okay, Eiríkur, would you like to explain why you smashed a kid's tooth out with a textbook?” 

  “I’m sorry sir, it's just that—”

  “Don't apologize, Eiríkur. Mr. Principal sir, it wasn't Eiríkur’s fault. The other kids in detention kept tormenting him and one of them called him a...” Sigurd couldn't bring himself to say the word out loud, so he wrote it down on the principal's notepad. The man's eyes widened in shock as he read it. “So after he said that I tried to get him to back off, but then he started threatening me and hitting me. Eiríkur was just acting in my defense.” 

  “So you went from getting in trouble for trying to run from him, to getting in trouble for trying to save him. You really are something special, Mr. Steilsson.” the principal remarked. 

  “Well, I've spent my whole life getting bullied, so I'm used to it;but, seeing it happen to someone else just snapped something in me. I couldn't stand by and let it happen.” Eiríkur explained.

  “I like you, Eiríkur. You're a bright kid, and I know the two of you were the victims in this situation. Unfortunately, others won't see it that way, and I'll have a lot of angry people on my hands if you aren't punished.” the principal confessed. 

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Still, I think the two of you have been through enough as it is, so I'll do you a favor. I'll try to find an alternate punishment less severe than suspension that won't go on your permanent records. Sound good?” 

  “Yes sir. Thank you so much.”

  “You're welcome. Now the two of you go on home, I'll call your parents about the situation later.” 

  “Okay. Goodbye!” 

  The teens walked out of the room in relief. All things considered, that could have gone much, much worse.

* * *

   After using the office phone to call his mom, Sigurd led Eiríkur to the front of the school to wait for her. He still couldn't believe what had happened in that classroom. Eiríkur Steilsson, the boy who never once lifted a finger to defend his own self, knocked a boy twice his size unconscious to protect Sigurd.  _ He really did that for me… _

__ Sigurd could feel his heart aching. It seemed that with every passing moment he only fell deeper in love with his “best friend.” He'd always felt bad for people who got friendzoned, but never thought it would happen to him. Especially not with the person who was  _ supposed  _ to be his soulmate. 

  “Are you okay? That kid was a real dick.” Eiríkur asked. 

  “I'm alright.” Sigurd assured him. 

  “So your dad’s in politics, huh? I never knew.” Eiríkur commented. 

  “Yeah, he's going to run for mayor soon. That's why I try my best to avoid conflicts at school. Every bad thing I do reflects on him.” Sigurd explained. 

  “Shit. Sorry for dragging you into so much crap then.” Eiríkur apologized. 

  “You've done nothing wrong. I think I've been the one putting you on the spot, if anything.” Sigurd argued.

  “Huh, you're right. Well in that case, fuck you.” 

  “Right now?” 

  “I told you to knock that off!” 

  “Aw c’mon, don't even try and pretend you don't at least like me a little bit.”

  “That's not important!” 

  By the time Sigurd’s mom arrived, Eiríkur was hanging from the taller male’s neck (he was trying to strangle him but it didn't work out). The two of them blushed and pulled apart when Sigurd’s mom opened the door for them and started laughing. The ride home was a bit chaotic, as Sigurd was lectured about getting detention and starting an almost-fight. 

  Sigurd mostly ignored his mom’s babbling, mumbling “okay” every few moments. Like all lovestruck idiots tend to—and like he does every time they were together—he tuned out the world and stared at Eiríkur. For once, Eiríkur was as lost in thought as he was and didn't notice the staring, leaving Sigurd to admire him without disturbance.  _ He's so perfect. Why can't the rest of the school see that?  _

__ Sigurd frowned as he had to say goodbye to Eiríkur. He watched as the boy disappeared into his house before heading to his own. When he laid down for the night, he thought about the confusing emotional mess that was his relationship with Eiríkur. Despite the fact that they'd recently agreed on being best friends, Sigurd was confident that Eiríkur would be easy to win over. He might've doubted it in the past but not anymore. 

_ Even if it's not romantically yet, he obviously cares about me a lot. That's all that matters for now.  _ Sigurd sighed contently before for slipping into yet another amazing dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww little Eirí is finally starting to like Sigurd~ About time.  
> Why is it that I get the most writing done when I have no time for it =.=


	11. Yet Another Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigurd just can't seem to stay out of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all this time I JUST found out that your profile picture can be a gif. Wow.

  Sigurd was getting frustrated. Nearly two weeks had gone by since their day in detention, and nothing changed between him and Eiríkur. Every day they went to school together, hung out, talked, laughed, then separated. If anything Eiríkur only become even more comfortable with being just friends. _He knows that I like him so why is he acting like this?_

  Sigurd groaned and kicked the trash can he was cleaning. Rather than being suspended for a week, he and Eiríkur were tasked with spending their entire lunch period cleaning the cafeteria every day for two weeks. Two. Whole. Weeks. He knew he should be grateful that he wasn't in more trouble, but it still sucked.

  As bad as cleaning duty was, the worst part of Sigurd’s week was definitely the visit to the counselor's office. He was asked so many questions that completely unnerved him, and was lectured about hormones and sex and everything that no teenager wants to talk about. At some point it had gotten way too personal. Instead of only talking about what he did, the counselor also made him explain why he “chose to be gay” and why he had a thing for Eiríkur. It took every ounce of Sigurd's willpower not to punch the man in the face.

  “If you keep handling everything so roughly, you're going to break it.” he heard Eiríkur say.

  Sigurd sighed and turned to face him. “Well I'm irritated. The kids at this school are gross and cleaning up after them makes me sick.”

  “Hey, we've only gotta do it one more day. You'll pull through.” Eiríkur assured him.

  “Since when are you so optimistic?”

  “Since you made me realize that not everything in my life is all that bad.”

   _If I mean that much to you then just kiss me already, dammit!_

“Wow, you're actually saying nice things about me now. It's a miracle.”

  “Go back to cleaning your trash.”

  “Theeeere's the snarky irritation I'm used to.”

  Eiríkur chuckled softly and went back to cleaning. Geez, at this point they'd spent more time cleaning together than actually hanging out. So much for high school being the best years of your life.

  When the bell finally rang, the two friends wheeled all their cleaning supplies to the janitor's closet. Sigurd walked Eiríkur to his class before going to his own. As expected, Sigurd had become a pariah. None of his old friends would talk to him anymore, and his classmates shot him dirty looks. When he got to his class he sat alone in the back corner, everyone refusing to acknowledge him.

   _Wow, I really spent the past two and half years with these idiots thinking we were friends. How pathetic._

Sigurd was less disappointed by the fact that he didn't have friends now, and more by the realization that he never had any to begin with. He wondered how many people at his school actually cared about each other at all. The clock seemed like it wasn't even moving as he stared at it, desperately wanting his next two classes to be over. _I just want to see Eirí already._

As soon as school was over, Sigurd just about sprinted to the spot where he met Eiríkur every day. His excitement faded as soon as he saw them.

  “Wow, you got here fast. That eager to see your boyfriend?”

   _Damn. Not him again._

  “It's really unfair you know. This little fucker smashed my freaking tooth out, yet I'm the one who got suspended? What the fuck?” the same jerk from detention glared contemptuously at Sigurd. He had one arm wrapped tightly around Eiríkur’s waist, his other hand clamped over the boy's mouth. Surprisingly—or rather _not_ surprisingly, considering this was Eiríkur we're talking about—Eiríkur just muttered something inaudible and rolled his eyes. It seems the crazy kid never changes.

  “So what exactly are you planning on doing?” Sigurd asked, not hiding is irritation.

  “I want you to fight me. Without any interruptions from your little pet.”

  “I swear, if you keep talking about him like that…”

  “Then what? You'll do something stupid and get yourself in trouble?”

  A crowd was gathering again. Why do high schoolers enjoy watching their fellow students tear each other apart so much? _I am getting sick and tired of these bastards. Still, if I throw the first punch then I'll be the one in trouble. I'm not stupid enough to do that._

  “How are you gonna fight me with your hands full?” Sigurd challenged. _I don't want to fight him, but I do want him to get his hands off of Eiríkur._

“Fair point. Catch.” the teen responded, practically throwing Eiríkur at Sigurd. Sigurd caught him right as he tripped and nearly hit the ground.

  “You okay?”

  “My pride took a few hits, but other than that I'm fine.” Eiríkur answered.

  “Um, hello? I'm still here! Are we gonna fight or not?”

  “Actually, now that I have Eiríkur back I was going to leave.” Sigurd shrugged.

  The bully’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? You're actually going to back away from a fight? Since when were you such a pussy?”

  “Look, I don't even know who the hell you are. I have better things to waste my time on than you.” Sigurd scoffed, now intentionally trying to piss the other kid off. _Come on. Give me an excuse to punch you in the face._

“You fucking brat. I'll show you.” the other teen growled before charging. Sigurd smirked, readying himself for the encounter. He was more than ready to put this jackass in his place. His confidence faded when his opponent pulled out a knife.

  “Wait, sto—” Sigurd was cut off as he felt the knife pierce through to his stomach. He screamed and fell to the ground. An excruciating pain tore through his midsection, he felt like his skin was on fire as the blood poured out.

  The spectators weren't laughing anymore. Some of them screamed, others stared in shock. Most of them ran away. Even the boy who'd stabbed him stared at his own hand in disbelief, as if even he didn’t understand what just happened. Sigurd was only vaguely aware of the blood that began pouring from his mouth as the knife was pulled from his stomach. He could hardly feel anything but the pain where he’d been stabbed.

  “Why the fuck would you do that!” Eiríkur screamed, tackling the assailant to the ground. The larger male was so stunned he didn’t even react when Eiríkur grabbed the knife out of his hand. “I swear I’ll fucking kill you for this!”

  “Aw, the little puppy came to defend its owner. You’re adorable, but I bet you don’t have the guts to do it.” the teen goaded once he snapped from his daze.

  “I’ll take you up on that bet you son of a—”

  “What is going on out here!” Everyone who remained there froze and looked up as the principal arrived. “Eiríkur what on earth are you doing?”

  “It’s not— it wasn’t— I-I didn’t— it’s not what it looks like!” Eiríkur yelled panickedly.

  “So you weren’t about to kill your classmate?”

  “Well I...that’s not important dammit! Why has no one called the fucking hospital yet?” Eiríkur accused. He dropped the knife he was holding and quickly scampered to Sigurd’s side. Not even giving a damn about the sun at this point, he tore the sleeve off his shirt and used it to stop the blood that was flowing from his friend’s abdomen.

  “Eirí…?” Sigurd coughed out.

  “Shut up, idiot, are you trying to die faster?” Eiríkur snapped back.

  Sigurd’s pain only intensified as he laughed weakly. The last things he saw before blacking out were his attacker trying to run away, someone rushing to the office to find a phone, and Eiríkur sobbing above him.

* * *

  When Sigurd next opened his eyes he felt a throbbing numbness in his abdomen and he had no clue where he was. He blinked a few times, waiting for his vision to adjust so he could look around. _Oh, I’m in the hospital._ He observed. He was suddenly aware of a weight on his leg, and looked down to see Eiríkur passed out in a chair with his head in Sigurd’s lap. He was wearing one of Sigurd’s jackets. The blond blushed at the closeness, but didn’t complain.

  “Hey, Eirí, wake up.” he said gently, running his fingers through the smaller teen’s hair.

  “Wuh?” Eiríkur mumbled, eyes still closed.

  “Is that my jacket?”

  “Your mom gave it to me. My shirt got fucked up.”

  “Looks cute on you. What are you doing here anyways? How long have we been here?” Sigurd questioned.

  Eiríkur woke himself up and sat up straight. “We’ve been here since yesterday afternoon.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s early in the morning now. Technically I’m not supposed to be here since I’m not family and also I was here past visiting hours, but I somehow convinced a nurse to let me stay with you.”

  “Why would you do that?” Sigurd was confused.

  “Because, you idiot, I was worried sick about you! I-I can’t live without you. Not anymore. I thought I was okay dealing with things by myself, but I’m not. I need you there with me.” Eiríkur admitted.

  Sigurd could not believe what he was hearing. Eiríkur really cared about him that much? The thought of it tugged at his heart. The silver haired teen sat staring at him, puffing his reddening cheeks out cutely. More now than ever, Sigurd wished that the boy would stop being stubborn and—

  “So don’t ever scare me like that again, got it?” Eiríkur ordered, leaning in and pressing their lips together.

  Sigurd was stunned. He felt Eiríkur’s body stiffen beside him briefly, before relaxing. The smaller teen quickly melted into the kiss, and Sigurd could tell from experience what was happening. _I can’t believe it. It’s finally happening._ Unconscious of what he was doing, Eiríkur got out of his seat and crawled over on top of Sigurd. The blond didn’t mind the slightest bit. He wrapped his arms around his little love’s waist, holding him tightly and ignoring the pain that the added pressure put on his stomach. The way the smaller male pressed their bodies closer to each other and the way their lips worked against each other’s were all he'd dreamed about, and now it was really happening.

  Eiríkur eventually pulled away with the gasp, staring down at Sigurd in shock.

  “I...I...oh my god.” he breathed.

  “Still don't believe in fate?” Sigurd mocked.

  “Shut the hell up.” Eiríkur pouted and looked away. “Damn, how did you survive the past week with me without us being together? It's been less than a minute since the last time I kissed you and it's already driving me insane.”

  “Eirí, you have no idea how crazy I was going.” Sigurd chuckled, pulling him down into another kiss. “But you were worth the wait.”

  “I'm sorry for being kind of a dick this time around.” Eiríkur chuckled awkwardly. “This life's just been a piece of shit so far. Until now, at least.”

  “We've been through worse.” Sigurd pointed out.

  “Are you sure about that?” Eiríkur laughed.

  “Do you not remember World War I?”

  “Okay, you have a point.”

  “So are you gonna kiss me again or not?”

  “Well duh.”

  Eiríkur laughed and pressed himself back against Sigurd. Sigurd gently grabbed the back of his head and kissed him deeply, similar to how he did the first time. Except this time Eiríkur wasn't complaining. Sigurd knew that staying in this position was not in his best interest, but he didn't care. He allowed his hand on Eiríkur’s waist to slip lower and squeezed gently, causing the smaller male to moan quietly. He unzipped the jacket the boy was wearing and pushed it off.

  “S-Sig, we're still in the hospital.” Eiríkur reminded him.

  “Come on Eirí, how many other chances are we gonna get to do it in a hospital? It would be a dream come true.” Sigurd whined.

  “Wait! Y-You actually wanted to...here?! I thought we were just kissing!” Eiríkur yelled. Sigurd would never get sick of how cute he was when he blushed.

  “Come on, please?” Sigurd pleaded, giving his backside another squeeze. Eiríkur yelped and buried his face in his neck.

  “We're in public, dumb ass.” He mumbled.

  “You're no fun.” Sigurd pouted.

  “Sig, you're injured. I'm not sure if you're supposed to be doing anything like that anyways, in public or otherwise.”

  “Anything like what?” Both boys jolted as the heard a voice behind them, and turned around to see Sigurd’s mother standing in the doorway. Eiríkur let out a startled squeak before rolling off of Sigurd and onto the floor. He hit the ground with a crash, and winced before quickly pulling his jacket back on.

  “Nothing, Mrs. Thomassen. W-We were...uh...um.” Eiríkur’s mind blanked as he tried to come up with an excuse.

  “He wasn't sure, but I planning on fucking him in the hospital bed.” Sigurd shamelessly admitted.

  “We weren't going to do that!” Eiríkur insisted, afraid to make eye contact with Sigurd’s mom.

  “I knew you boys were more than just friends.” Mrs. Thomassen giggled. “You're so cute together.”

  “Mooom you're being embarrassing.” Sigurd groaned. “And I haven't officially asked him out yet so…”

  His mother gasped. “So what, is this just a physical relationship then?” At this point Eiríkur was curled into an embarrassed ball of shame.

  “No, I love him. He knows that. I just haven't gotten around to asking him out yet.” Sigurd shrugged.

  “Then ask me out, you dick.” Eiríkur punched his arm lightly.

  “Fine. Will you be my boyfriend?”

  “Duh, did you really have to ask?” Eiríkur joked.

  “See, mom? We're officially boyfriends. So can you leave and let me have a little fun with him?”

  “I already told you we're not doing that here!”

  “Teenagers.” Mrs. Thomassen shook her head. “I'm happy you two got together. Seeing the way you always look at each other was driving me crazy. But be careful. Most people wouldn't approve of this, and if the media caught you…”

  “Dad would be screwed, I know.”

  “You shouldn't talk to your mom like that.” Eiríkur whispered to his boyfriend. He wasn't quiet enough, though, so Mrs. Thomassen heard.

  “Aww. Why can't you be sweet like him, Sigurd?”

  “Eiríkur stop being better than me.”

  “Not better, just more polite.” Eiríkur corrected. “It's not that hard, Sig.”

  “Well, I just came here to make sure my little boy was okay, so I'll leave you two alone now.” Sigurd's mom said. “Try not to have too much fun while you're alone!”

  And with that, she walked out.

  “Don't worry, we won't!” Eiríkur called after her.

  “We won't?” Sigurd pouted. Eiríkur sighed exasperatedly.

  “If you ask the doctor about it and he says it's okay, I'll think about it. I don't want you hurting yourself.” He decided.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Sigurd smiled. He never thought he'd say this, but getting stabbed was shaping up to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One week and school has already SUCKED OUT MY SOUL. Quiero morir.  
> I'm happy I finally got to this part in the fic though! So much unresolved conflict I have to wrap up now XD


	12. Talking Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of dorks talking about their pasts and future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took forever. I'm so sorry ;-;

  Once things calmed down, Eiríkur pulled himself to his feet and sat down on the hospital bed next to Sigurd.

  “So, how are you feeling?” He asked. 

  Sigurd shrugged. “Hurts a little, but other than that I'm fine. I actually feel pretty damn great.” 

  Eiríkur smiled. “That's good to hear.” 

  “How are you?” Sigurd asked back. 

  “I got a little sunburnt but I'll live.” Eiríkur replied. 

  The two of them sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying being together, until a question began to nag at Sigurd’s mind. 

  “So, the kid that stabbed me...what happened to him?” Sigurd asked. 

  “They caught him. He's going to juvenile hall for bringing a weapon onto school campus and assaulting a classmate.” Eiríkur told him. 

  Sigurd took it in for a moment before asking, “there won't be anything about it in the news, right? Oh god if they ask him why he did it everyone will find out that I'm gay and it'll ruin my dad’s election and it'll be my fault and I—” 

  “Whoa, slow down. Your dad already let the media know he doesn't want any of this in the news. And not because of his election, by the way. He doesn't want any network exploiting you for views or anything. I know it sucks that he hasn't been able to visit yet, but he really is worried about you.” Eiríkur soothed. 

  “He did it...for me?” Sigurd was surprised. 

  “Yes, Sig. Crazy as it may seem, people actually really care about you.” Eiríkur giggled. 

  “Wow. Thanks for telling me, Eirí.” 

  “No problem.” 

  “You know, it's crazy how lucky I've been getting. I mean honestly, it's a miracle word hasn't gotten out about any of what's been going on lately.” Sigurd observed. 

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, take a few weeks ago for example. I lost my temper and completely beat the hell out of someone, but somehow the news never reached either of my parents.” Sigurd pointed out. 

  “Huh, you're right.” Eiríkur nodded along. 

  “And then the time I kissed you in class. How on earth did  _ that _ manage to stay on the down low? If even one reporter had found out about it my dad’s career would be over! It isn't like it happened that long ago. It's not too late for people to start talking. Oh goodness I've done so many careless things lately, one of them is bound to come bite me in the ass!” Sigurd started to freak out. 

  “Sig, calm down.” Eiríkur commanded before kissing him. “You're overreacting. If people were going to tell about these things they would have by now. Who knows, maybe the universe decided to cover for your ass and you getting stabbed was like payment to balance out all the shit you got to avoid.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Sigurd sighed. “The universe can be a bitch sometimes." 

  Eiríkur was glad he got Sigurd to calm down. “That's all in the past now okay, so stop worrying about it. I'd rather we talked about what we're going to do now.” 

  Sigurd gave him a look that read “what do you mean by that?” 

  “Now that we have our memories back and we know who we are and all...what now? What should we do?” Eiríkur asked. 

  Sigurd shook his head. “Nothing. Just keep living our lives together. Whoever we were in our last lives, that's not us anymore. We're our own people with our own lives now. I think our past memories are just meant to remind us that we're meant to be together and to prove that we're inseparable. I don't think we're supposed to try and pick up where we left off.” 

  “So we should just ignore our past selves?” Eiríkur questioned.

  “No, we shouldn't ignore them completely. I'm just saying we shouldn't let who they were define who we are. We aren't them, Eiríkur. I don't want you changing who you are now because of someone you were in the past, okay? Promise me we'll stay the same.” Sigurd pleaded. 

  “I promise.” Eiríkur agreed. “I'm sorry, I was overthinking it. I'll try not to think about it too much anymore.”

  “Thank you.” Sigurd pulled him down into a hug. 

  Eiríkur gladly cuddled up to his boyfriend, wanting to kiss him again. The two of them made out for quite a while before Sigurd pulled back.

  “What's wrong?” Eiríkur asked, disappointed by the loss. 

  “I was just thinking, since we were talking about pasts and all. We never really did fully get to know about each other in this life.” Sigurd explained. 

  “Oh. You're right.” Eiríkur agreed. “Well then, is there anything you wanted to ask me?” 

  Sigurd nodded. “I know it's probably a sensitive topic, but I've been aching to know...how did your mom die?”

  Eiríkur gulped. He knew he'd have to tell Sigurd about it eventually, but he still hated the idea of having to think about it. To relive that memory.

  “Well...it was my fault, really. One morning she drove me to school, and when I got there I realized I accidentally left my binder at home. I begged her to go home and get it for me, and eventually she gave in and said yes. Normally she would've driven to work, but because of me...well, she didn't. She drove to our house instead.” Eiríkur had to take a breath before continuing.  “And on her way there, she ended up on the road at the same time as this drunk idiot. H-He drove his car straight into hers and they smashed together. He died on impact, b-but my mom didn't. She lasted just long enough for them to get her to the hospital, pull me out of school, and bring me to see her. I was so stunned and confused, I couldn't say anything. If I'd realized that I’d only had a couple more minutes with her, it could've been different. I could've said goodbye, I could've told her I loved her. I could've said sorry. But I didn't. I just stood there staring like an idiot until...until s-she…” 

  Hard as he tried, Eiríkur couldn't stop himself from crying. “Do you know how much it sucks to lose someone and not even get to say goodbye? To have them one moment and not the next with no warning whatsoever? It hurts like hell, Sig. And the worse part was knowing that it was all my fucking fault.”

  It had been a while since Sigurd had seen Eiríkur cry like this. As much as it saddened him to see his little love in such a state, it also made him feel closer to him somehow. Like he was being allowed to see something that no one else ever was. 

  “Eirí, don't be crazy. There's no way that was your fault.” Sigurd told him. 

  “Yes, it was! She wouldn't have been  _ on  _ that road if it weren't for me. I'm the reason she's gone…” Eiríkur sniffled. “And it's my fault that Dad’s always so stressed out. And sad. If Mom were here he'd still be happy. But she's not, and it's my fault. I don't know why he even keeps me. If I were him I'd hate me for ruining his life. He should hate me, so why does he keep doing so much for me?”

  “Because he loves you. Eiríkur, no one is blaming you for anything. You can't control the world. Sometimes in life, bad things happen. They don't have to be anyone's fault, and they certainly aren't yours.” Sigurd determined. 

  “But I—”

  “No buts. You can't keep beating yourself up over everything like this. You've been through enough, don't make it worse for yourself. You haven't done anything wrong, you hear me?” 

  “Sig…” 

  “Promise me you'll never blame yourself again.” 

  “Sig, I can't.” 

  “Eirí.” 

  “No…”

  “Promise me.” 

  “...”

  “Please?”

  “Alright. I promise.” Eiríkur caved, leaning his head against Sigurd’s chest. “But only because I know if it had been the other way around, I wouldn't want her blaming herself over me.”

  “There's a good boy.” Sigurd smiled, rubbing Eiríkur’s back. 

  “Fuck off.” Eiríkur huffed, but chuckled shortly after. “You're so sweet it's disgusting.” 

  “But I know you love sweets.” Sigurd mocked. 

  “...Just kiss me.” Eiríkur demanded. 

  “I thought you'd never ask.” Sigurd smirked, kissing him once more. 

  And just like that, Sigurd got Eiríkur to do the one thing he never thought he could do. He finally forgave himself for his mother's death, and for what he put his dad through. He felt lighter somehow. It felt nice. 

  “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” Eiríkur asked. 

  “I had a feeling.” Sigurd laughed. Eiríkur pouted. “Fine fine, I love you too.” 

  Eiríkur grinned and went in for another kiss. That was what he wanted to hear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was short but I really wanted to just write another chapter and I realized I left a few things unanswered and wanted to, well, answer them. I mean seriously tell me none of you have ever wondered what happened to the mom.  
> Now here's the deal. I have the next chapter done now. The problem is I haven't the slightest clue how long it'll take for me to write the one after it because I'm planning on making that one a bit longer.   
> This poses the question: should I post the next chapter right now, or should I wait a week so the wait for the chapter after it doesn't feel as long?  
> I mean, as the author it makes no difference to me. I just want to know what you guys would prefer.


	13. "Working"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiríkur wants to work on a project. Sigurd doesn't.

Sigurd and Eiríkur had a fun week while it lasted. Eiríkur’s dad sorted things out with principal and allowed him to skip school in order to take care of Sigurd. The blond’s parents were busy and it would be sad to leave him alone (his dad was occupied with the election and his mom had been called on an important business trip). They got to do a lot of talking, and played a lot of dumb games. One night, after getting permission from Sigurd’s doctor, they even got to make the blond’s wish of doing ‘things’ in the hospital come true. 

  Unfortunately, they couldn't avoid their responsibilities forever, and one day Eiríkur mentioned something that made Sigurd groan. 

  “So should we finish the English project?” 

  “But Eirí…” 

  “Sig, you're not gonna be out of school forever. We'll have to go back eventually, and when we do we can't afford to fall behind.” Eiríkur insisted. 

  “Oh fine.” Sigurd pouted. 

  Once Eiríkur reached into his bag and pulled out the book and a bunch of school supplies, it occurred to Sigurd that doing the work was Eiríkur’s plan all along. 

  “Working wasn't optional...was it?” 

  “Nope. Just thought you'd be less of a pain to deal with if I could get ya to work with me willingly.” Eiríkur admitted. 

  “You owe me a kiss for this.” Sigurd complained. 

  “Fair enough.” Eiríkur giggled and gave him a kiss. He sat down next him with all their supplies and the two of them got to work. 

  Except that last sentence was a lie. They actually just started making out. At some point Eiríkur had dropped the supplies, instead sitting in Sigurd’s lap to have an easier time kissing him. Sigurd couldn't help feeling a little proud at how easily he was able to distract his cute little boyfriend. 

  It took nearly five minutes for Eiríkur to snap out of his kissing trance and pull back. “Sig, this isn't working!” 

  “What's not working?” 

  “No, I mean we're not working.” 

  “We're not?” 

  “Goddammit Sigurd I mean we need to do our work!”

  “Oh.” 

  Eiríkur groaned. “You are seriously dense sometimes.” 

  “It's not my fault I have an incredibly hot boyfriend that distracts me.” Sighed teased, pulling him back down to another kiss. 

  It was another five minutes before Eiríkur could pull away again. “Stop doing that!” 

  “Stop doing what?”

  “Distracting me! Sigurd, we have a  _ lot  _ of work to get back to.” Eiríkur insisted. 

  “Fine. I have a proposition.”

  “And what is that?” 

  “A trade, of sorts. You give me something I want, and I'll give you what you want. Sound fair?” 

  Eiríkur gulped, a shiver going down his spine. He knew Sigurd well enough to know where this was going, and he couldn't deny his excitement. “So I just have to do this one thing for you and you'll finally finish our stupid project?” 

  “Yep.” Sigurd nodded. 

  “Well then, it's a deal.” Eiríkur smiled. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Sigurd forced their lips together again. Unlike the short, gentle kisses they'd been exchanging earlier, this time Sigurd opted to invade the smaller male's mouth with his tongue.

  It took less than a minute to reduce Eiríkur to a panting, flustered mess. His cheeks were burning red and he was completely out of breath. Sigurd smirked at his boyfriend’s adorably submissive state. He really never would get sick of seeing the boy like this. 

  Sigurd gently pushed the silver-haired teen’s head downwards, and it didn't take long for Eiríkur to catch on.  _ Ah, so that's what he wants. I can handle that.  _ The smaller teen thought. 

  Eiríkur slid down so he was eye-level with his boyfriend’s crotch. He got to work removing the blond’s jeans and underwear and soon found himself face to face with a rather large length. 

  He glanced upwards to see Sigurd eyeing him impatiently, and decided to tease him a little. He very lightly grazed his tongue up and down along his boyfriend’s shaft before gently sucking at the tip. 

  Eiríkur could feel Sigurd tensing up, and an upwards glance showed just how impatient the blond was getting. Eiríkur chuckled lowly and busied himself littering gentle kisses and licks all over Sigurd’s cock.

  The quiet moans and grunts coming from his boyfriend delighted Eiríkur to no end. Sigurd, on the other hand, was not as pleased with the situation. 

  “Eirí I swear—nnng—if you don't get on with it I'm not doing the project!” Sigurd threatened.

  “Well if that's what you want I can just stop right now.” Eiríkur teased, pulling back slightly. 

  Sigurd groaned. “Come on Eirí, please.” 

  “Wow, you actually asked politely. Fine then, you win.” Eiríkur gave up teasing, taking nearly all of his boyfriend’s length into his mouth and sucking roughly. 

  Sigurd moaned loudly, immediately reaching a hand down to grasp at Eiríkur’s hair. The smaller teen moaned softly and began to slowly bob his head along the length. Eager to please his lover, he began to use his tongue in all the right ways that had the blond moaning and gasping above him.

  “Fuck, Eirí...t-that feels...aah.”

  Eiríkir shuddered at the praise. This may have been his first time trying something like this in this life, but he'd had countless lives of past experience to draw from and was practically an expert. 

  Overtime he picked up speed, taking Sigurd in faster in deeper. Suppressing his gag reflex, Eiríkur eventually managed to take the whole thing in. He would raise his head relatively slowly until his lips just barely held onto the tip, before plunging back down so it hit the back of throat. He knew he'd have an awful sore throat later, but it was worth it for the reactions it drew from Sigurd. 

  The blond was completely in awe of his boyfriend. The boy just looked so beautiful with his eyes half shut and his soft pink lips stretched around Sigurd’s dick. Sigurd didn't know it was possible to feel this good before this moment. Unable to control himself, he started thrusting harshly into the small male's throat. Eiríkur took it like a pro, however, only gagging a handful of times and managing to continue bobbing and sucking without issue. 

  “Eirí...oh fuck Eirí you're amazing.” Sigurd gasped out. 

  Eiríkur hummed lightly in response, knowing full well the effect the vibrations were having on the blond. 

  “Damn, Eirí. I—”

  Sigurd came before he could finish his warning. Luckily, Eiríkur was ready, and he managed to swallow everything down without incident. After delivering a few more licks to the slowly softening length, Eiríkur pulled his boyfriend’s pants and undergarments back up and into place. 

  Eiríkur crawled back up so he could rest his head on Sigurd’s shoulder. “Happy now?” 

  Sigurd was still panting, and took a moment to respond. “Yes, very.”

  “Good.” Eiríkur grinned. “I'm taking a nap. If that project isn't almost finished when I wake up, I'm kicking your ass.” 

  Sigurd laughed. “Yeah yeah, I'll get it done.”

  “Love you~” Eiríkur cooed. 

  “Love you too.” Sigurd kissed his cheek before getting up and retrieving the project supplies from the floor. 

  Eiríkur was out like a light, leaving the blond to work alone in silence. Sigurd smiled down as he flipped through the pages of the book that they'd already completed. As much of a pain as the project was, Sigurd would be lying if he said a lot of really great things hadn't come from it. 

  Hell, without it he may never have had the guts to talk to Eiríkur in the first place. The more Sigurd thought about it, the more he realized just how important this stupid little book was to him. He almost didn't want it to end. 


	14. Back to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys return to school, where Eiríkur runs into an old frenemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh so in order for this whole thing to work I had to use an OC with an actual name  
> I sure hope I didn't accidentally use the name of any real character...

  When Eiríkur finally awoke, he looked up to see Sigurd working diligently on what appeared to be the last page of their storybook.

  “Wow. You actually got it done,” he commented while sitting up straight.

 “You upheld your end of the deal, it was only fair I did the same.” Sigurd said. “You are amazing, by the way.”

  “Aren't I?” Eiríkur smirked, sitting up straight.

  “Absolutely.” Sigurd leaned over and kissed him softly. “By the way, when you were asleep the doctor came and ran some tests, and it's okay for me to go back to school tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? Already?” Eiríkur was surprised.

  “Yeah. Weren't you the one who was lecturing me on how we should be ready to go back?”

  “But that's so soon…” Eiríkur pouted.

  “I don't like it either, believe me.” Sigurd admitted. “On the bright side, my mom is back from her business trip so we don't have to walk to school.”

  “Oh wow. Perfect timing.”

  “Right?” Sigurd looked his boyfriend over a bit before making a sort of proposal. “Hey Eirí?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Whaddya say you and I have a little more fun in here before I get kicked out of this room?”

  Eiríkur stared at him for a moment before realization kicked in and he began to blush. “Is that all you ever think about?”

  “Well...yeah, actually.” Sigurd wasn't embarrassed to admit.

  Eiríkur sighed before giving in and agreeing. “Well, if it means that much to you.”

  “Don't pull that on me. We both know you like it.”

  “Oh shut up and kiss me.”

  “‘Kay.”

  Sigurd wasted no time in tackling is boyfriend to the bed and kissing him roughly. He was going to miss being able to do stuff like this whenever he wanted. Starting tomorrow he'd have to wait until after school; and, knowing Eiríkur’s busy schedule, it probably wouldn't be a daily thing anymore, either. He wanted to relish it while he could.

_

  The next morning, Eiríkur woke up to an unpleasant soreness in his backside. This wasn't much of a problem back when he would spent most of the day just sitting around Sigurd’s hospital room, but now he had to go school like this. This was going to be painful.

  “Sig. Get up.” He mumbled, although he hadn't actually gotten up yet either. He was still laying down tucked into Sigurd’s side, and his eyes were closed.

  Since it was a major hassle for Eiríkur’s dad to drive him to the hospital and back all the time, Eirí had opted to just never leave. Of course, there were some complications—they were technically breaking hospital regulations, but a few sympathetic workers helped them pull it off; sharing such a tiny bed wasn't exactly comfortable; Eiríkur always had to walk a few blocks in order to pick up food, and he still wasn't a big fan of the sun; and just getting used to living in a hospital in general was weird—but they made it work.

  “No. Sleepy. Five more minutes.” Sigurd whined.

  “But we hafta get to school.” Eiríkur slurred, still groggy.

  “We can just say there was traffic or somethin’. Let's be late.” Sigurd insisted.

  “Yeah…okay.” Eiríkur agreed. He was sleepy enough to agree to the idiotic plan.

  Half a dozen requests for “five more minutes” later, and the two ended up at school forty-five minutes after the bell rang. They split up and hurried off to class. Eiríkur tried to think up a good excuse the whole way there.

  He got to class and spouted some nonsense about it taking a long time to check out of the hospital and was eventually allowed to take his seat. As usual, everyone gave him weird looks and started whispering about him; but what they were saying was nothing like he was used to.

  “Holy shit, he's back.”

  “So, who cares?”

  “Did you seriously not hear? He almost fucking killed somebody.”

  “No way.”

  “It's true! I was there. Someone messed with his boyfriend so he threatened to kill them.”

  “That little twig? I don't believe you.”

  “No, I was there too. He pulled a knife and everything!”

  Eiríkur didn't know what surprised him more: the fact that people were actually scared of him now, or the fact that everyone seemed to have conveniently forgotten that he got the knife in the first place from the kid that nearly killed his boyfriend.

  His next class was the same thing. Everyone was dead _terrified_ of him. They swerved away from him and avoided him like always, but there wasn't any disgust or annoyance in their eyes. Just fear. _I can get used to this._ He thought.

  As soon as he met with Sigurd in front of their classroom, the taller male kissed him said, “there's my scary little badass.”

  “What are you on about?”

  “It was insane. In my last couple classes I heard other kids talking about how they were scared to mess with me because they were afraid you'd come after them.”

  “You're kidding.”

  “Nope. Crazy how fast the tables turn when ya get stabbed.” Sigurd joked. "I'm used to them being scared of  _me_." 

  They turned toward the door, and Eiríkur clinged onto Sigurd's arm out of habit when they walked in. They turned their project in and went to sit down. Eiríkur expected Sigurd to go back to his normal seat now that they project was over, but instead he stared at the student in the seat next to Eiríkur until they got uncomfortable and moved somewhere else, and sat down.

  “Thomassen. That's not your assigned seat.” The teacher called him out.

  Sigurd shrugged. “It is now.”

  The teacher glared daggers at him for a moment before sighing and giving in. “Alright. Just don't cause any trouble.”

  “When have I ever?” Sigurd feigned hurt. Eiríkur clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle a giggle.

  “Just be quiet, boy.”

  By the time the two were heading out to lunch, it seemed everything was back to (relatively) normal. Other than a few whisperings here and there, their return didn't cause too much of an uproar. No one was even surprised to see them acting like a couple all the sudden. They all expected it to happen.

  They were sitting in their usual isolated spot, when the sound of footsteps alarmed them to someone's arrival. They both looked up, and when Eiríkur saw who it was he immediately stood up and starting walking away. Sigurd was completely dumbfounded.

  “Eirí, wait!” the person called.

  “Don't call me that!” Eiríkur snapped. “What part of ‘I never want to see your stupid face again’ didn't you understand!”

  “Come on Eirí, that was years ago. Don't tell me you're still mad.”

  “Just because you stopped paying attention to me doesn't mean people stopped terrorizing me because of you.” Eiríkur scoffed.

  “I'm sorry. I was a dumb kid back then, I didn't know any better. I didn't think they'd hurt you that bad, honest!”

  “Oh you're sorry? Well gee, that fixes fucking everything. I have suddenly decided to forgive you for the countless times I've gotten my ass kicked because of you, just because you said sorry. Thanks soo much for suddenly caring.” Eiríkur said sardonically. Sigurd remembered Eiríkur taking a similar tone with him when he fucked up, and knew this kid must've done something pretty bad. “Why the fuck are you even talking to me right now?”

  “I just...I wanted to apologize, that's all. I really do feel awful for everything I did to you. I've done a lot of things to a lot of people, but what happened to you was unforgivable. To be honest it's the only thing I've ever felt truly guilty about.”

  Sigurd still had no clue what was happening.

  “You’re right, it is unforgivable. So I'm _never_ going to forgive you.”

  “But Eirí...”

  “I get it. After five years you've decided that maybe ruining my _entire fucking life_ so that people would like you more was a bad thing to do. And now the guilt is slowly destroying you from the inside out and you hope that you can make it go away by getting me to forgive you.”  

 “Yes! Exactly!”

  “You want my forgiveness? Fine. I'll forgive you if you jump of a goddamn cliff.” Eiríkur snarled. “Come on, Sigurd. We're leaving.”

  “Huh?” Sigurd looked up at him in confusion before deciding it was his best decision to get up and follow him. They ended up sitting at a table in the library, where no one ever went during break since there was no food allowed. Neither of them felt like eating anymore anyways.

  “What was that about?” Sigurd questioned after a few moments of silence. “Who even was that kid?”

  “His name's Alex, and he's the biggest asshole on the planet.” Eiríkur responded, sighing and resting his cheek on his hand. “He used to be my best friend, but one day he started telling lies about me and beat the hell outta me in front of the rest of the school so he'd be more popular. I already got picked on sometimes before then, but he's the reason other people started beating on me, too. Fucking prick.”

  Sigurd was shocked. After all the time they spent together in the hospital, he didn't think there could still be so much about Eiríkur that he didn't know.

  “You two were friends? When? What did he tell people?” Sigurd's curiosity about the situation—along with his hatred for this Alex kid—was peaking.

  “I guess this is another thing I should've told you sooner.” Eiríkur said. “There's a reason I have trust issues. That fucker is it.”

  He sat up straighter and turned so he was fully facing Sigurd, and started telling him the story of his first friend.

 

* * *

 

 

  Eiríkur’s transition into being in America was anything but easy at first. His unusual appearance aside, the other kids had plenty of other reasons not to play with him. His English wasn't the best, so he got awfully confused whenever the kids would use expressions such as “horsing around” or “catching a break.”

  He was only a little kid for goodness sake, and English was confusing as hell. He only understood the literal meanings of words, but no one ever seemed to use them. It was all weird colloquialisms and slang that sounded like gibberish to him, and no one wanted to take the time to explain every little thing to him.

  What was worse, when he himself tried speaking in English, it always came out heavily accented, and everyone made fun of him for it. Eventually he would learn to suppress that accent a bit more, but he never got rid of it entirely.

  He was also both the new kid and the poor kid, so people picked on him for that, too. He couldn't fit in no matter how hard he tried.

  Then one day he met Alex. Alex was a sweet, quiet kid who also didn't have a lot of friends because he was weird too. Not as weird as Eiríkur, but weird. He liked books more than people and would rather read than hang out with others.

  They became friends because Alex was good at English but bad at math, and Eiríkur was the other way around. They would study together every day in the library, and even hang out after school. Alex eventually got pretty good at math, and Eiríkur got better at speaking to and understanding everyone else.

  Alex was the first—and, until Eiríkur met Sigurd, the only—person to ever make an effort to be Eiríkur’s friend. They were inseparable through all of elementary school, and for the beginning of middle school.

  But then Alex started changing. He started getting embarrassed to be seen with someone as unusual as Eiríkur. He stopped being antisocial, and started wanting friends. He started wanting to be popular. That was impossible to achieve, though, if he continued associating himself with Eiríkur Steilsson. The problem was, he still cared too much about his best friend to flat out leave him.

  That all changed when Eiríkur started acting...different. In the past he'd never given romance or sexuality much of a thought, but now that they were older he realized something. He was definitely very gay for his best friend. He developed a massive crush on Alex, and one day, when they were hanging out at his house, he decided to confess that crush.

  “Hey Alex?” he'd called out shyly, making the other boy look up from his book.

  “Yeah Eirí? What's up?”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “Sure, man. Anything.”

  Eiríkur trembled nervously, and lunged forward to plant a kiss on his friend's cheek. “I uh...I really like you.”

  Alex didn't take it well. “What the fuck?!” He shouted, shoving Eiríkur away.

  Eiríkur went red instantly, trying to think of some excuse for what just happened.

  “Dude are you gay?” Alex asked.

  “What?”

  “Are you gay? As in, you like guys instead of girls.”

  Eiríkur looked at him oddly. He never knew he was supposed to like girls. No one had ever told him so.

  “Well I like you, and you're a guy so...yeah. I guess.”

  “Gross.” Alex shuddered. “That is fucking gross. I can't believe I've been friends with a fucking fag this whole time.”

  “A what?”

  “God, you're clueless.” Alex groaned. He picked up his things and started to leave. “Listen, Eirí. I don't think this friendship is gonna work out. I want you to leave me alone from now on, ‘kay?”

  “But...but I like you.” Eiríkur said sadly. “I don't want to leave you alone.” The poor kid was so confused. So Alex didn't want to be boyfriends. He was okay with that. Why did they have to stop being friends, too?

  “Well that's too bad. I'm outta here.” Alex grunted, walking away. Eiríkur watched in dismay as he left.

  “Was it something I did?” He muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only finished half this chapter but it's just been soooo long since I updated that I decided to post the finished half. Hopefully the next chapter with the last piece of my sweet baby's back story will be out soon!


	15. Broken Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part of my poor cutie's backstory!

   The next day Eiríkur walked into school, everyone was glaring at him like he was some kind of alien, and they were whispering a bunch of things he couldn't quite hear, but he assumed they were about him. 

  He walked faster, wanting to get away from all the angry stares. He found Alex talking to a group of kids he didn't know, and went up to talk to him. Before he could, however, one of the kids put on a hand on his chest and shoved him backwards. 

  “Hold it right there, freak. We know what you did, and we're not letting you anywhere our pal, Alex, here.” the strange boy said. 

  Eiríkur cocked his head to the side in confusion. “What did I do?” 

  “Don't play innocent. Alex told us all about how you tried to molest him last night.” 

  “I tried to what?” Eiríkur wasn't following. 

  “What are you, stupid? He said you were all over him and trying to touch him and stuff.” Why was this kid saying these things? 

  “I didn't do any of that!” Eiríkur argued. “I just kissed him is all.” 

  “So you admit that you were kissing him when he didn't want you too? Fucking perv.” 

  “Huh? It was just a kiss on the cheek! Alex, I'm sorry if I freaked you out! I promise I'll never do it again!” Eiríkur looked at his friend desperately. He didn't like the way people were looking at him and talking about him. It scared him really bad. 

  “Don't lie to them!” Alex shouted at him. Eiríkur gasped when his friend shoved him backwards into the wall. 

  “But I'm not lying! Alex I'm sorry, really!” Eiríkur tried to place his hand on his friend’s shoulder to calm him down, and was shocked when he was slapped harshly across the face. 

  “Don't touch me!” Alex yelled at him. “Don't you ever touch me!” 

  Eiríkur was stunned. He couldn't move, or speak, or do anything at all. Even Alex seemed scary to him all the sudden.Boy, he was so scared. 

  “Are you just gonna let him get away with what he did to you? Come on Alex, teach the freak a lesson.” One of the other kids said.  _ Who even are these people? What's happening?   _ Eiríkur wondered. 

  Alex gulped as he stared down at the boy who'd been his only friend for so long. This was it. All he had to do was sever his connection to Eiríkur, and he could finally be more popular. What was the worse that could happen?

  Eiríkur yelped when Alex hit him again. And again.

  “Alex please stop.” He whimpered. 

  “Stop me then!” Alex didn't just slap him this time. He punched him. Hard.  

  Even then, Eiríkur couldn't make himself move. “No! You're my best friend, I'm not hitting you!” Eiríkur refused. Stupid as it was, he was a kid in love, and he couldn't bring himself to hurt the person he loved. 

  Even if it meant standing there, defenseless, as that same person beat him relentlessly. 

  Days later, Eiríkur stupidly approached Alex again. He couldn't help it—he was lovestruck. And he was terrified of going back to that crushing loneliness he once suffered. 

  “Please be my friend again.” He requested. “Please.” 

  “You just don't learn, do you?” One of Alex’s new friends said, shaking their head. “Want me to take care of him this time?” The guy asked, glancing back at Alex. 

  “Go for it.” Alex shrugged. 

  Eiríkur ended up getting beat up again. He still loved his friend, though. 

  So he kept coming back. Being hit was better than being alone and ignored. Then, at least, he felt like was worth something. It started getting harder and harder to lie to his parents about where all his bruises were coming from. He didn't care, though. Love makes people do the craziest things, especially when they're young. 

  After a while he had already given up the notion of getting his friend back. If anything, he was only going back for closure. He wanted to know  _ why  _ they couldn't be friends. He still had no idea what he did wrong. 

  Surely it had to be more than just the stupid kiss. Alex had forgiven him for worse, so there had to be something else going on. He just couldn't figure out what that something was. 

  One day Eiríkur managed to catch Alex alone, when he didn't have to worry about some kid he didn't know attacking him, and tried talking to him.

  “Eiríkur, how can I make it clear to you that I want nothing to do with you? Alex sighed. 

  “Don't worry, you've already made it clear enough. Just...tell me why. Why do you hate me all the sudden?” Eiríkur asked, his voice full of sorrow.

  “Because,” Alex told him. “You're gay. I don't want to be friends with a gay kid.” 

  Eiríkur didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. 

  “So that's it? After years of being friends,  _ that's _ why you keep hitting me now? Because of the way I was born?” Eiríkur’s voice shook with both sadness and anger. 

  “It’s  _ disgusting _ , Eirí. I don't care if it's your fault or not. It's gross and wrong.” Alex said. 

  “You're just like everyone else.” Eiríkur struggled not to burst into tears. “You told me you didn't care that I was different. You said you would never judge me for how I was born!” 

  “That was before I found out you were  _ gay _ ! That changes everything!”

  “How?” 

  “It just does okay!” Alex shouted. “Eirí, look. I don't want to keep hurting you, but if you don't leave right now, I'll have to.”

  “Have to? And who's making you?” Eiríkur shouted back. 

  “Eiríkur I fucking swear you better get away from me right now.” 

  “Fine.” Eiríkur gave up trying. “I never want to see your stupid face again anyways!” 

  He ran off, all the way home. He didn't stick around until the end of the school day. He just left. 

  From that point on he never trusted anyone. He decided that love was a stupid, useless emotion, and that he never wanted to feel it again. 

  And that decision never wavered. Never, at least, until he met Sigurd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's every major plot point I wanted to cover. We're almost at the ending, folks!


	16. Telling Mr. Thomassen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!

  It was two days after Eiríkur had told Sigurd about what happened all those years ago. In those two days Eiríkur had to yell at Alex twice to stop coming back, and Sigurd had to restrain himself from starting another fight. He figured the principal was probably getting sick of always covering for the two of them, so they should make an effort to stay out of trouble from now on.

  They had gotten partnered up for another assignment again, this one much shorter and easier than the book. They had to pick an author and make a presentation about their life and writing and whatnot. Sigurd had jokingly suggested doing Charles Dickens, earning a punch to the gut from Eiríkur along with an utterance of “never again.” In the end they went with Thomas Paine, since they were already learning about him in history.

  “You know, if it weren’t for you I’d be terrified of being in a class that gave so many partner projects all the time.” Eiríkur commented, flopping down on Sigurd’s bed. The two had used their assignment as an excuse for Eiríkur to come over after his daily chores. While they did intend to get a least a little bit of work done, their main objective was just to have a bit of alone time. Trying to get used to being back in school had exhausted them both, and they desperately needed at least a few hours to spend with each other without having to worry about any interruption.

  “Yeah, no kidding.” Sigurd agreed, sitting on the bed next to him. Eiríkur immediately scooted over to rest his head in Sigurd’s lap, making the taller boy smile.

  “Hey Sig?” Eiríkur asked.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Are you ever gonna tell your dad about us?” Sigurd was worried that Eiríkur would bring that up someday. He had discussed this with his mom before; should he or should he not tell his dad about Eiríkur. The only thing Mr. Thomassen knew about Eirí was that he was Sigurd’s friend that helped take care of him while he was in the hospital, so that at least meant he already liked Eiríkur.

  The only thing was, Sigurd had to no clue how his dad felt about homosexuality. His mom was obviously happy Sigurd had found someone he loved, regardless of gender, but would his dad feel the same? He wasn’t so sure.

   _“Your dad is...complicated”_ His mom had told him when he asked her about it. From what he understood, his father publicly declared that he was against gays, but that might have just been so people would be more likely to vote him in. A lot of people in the country, and in their town especially, were strongly hateful towards gay people. As a politician, it was a risky move to advocate for gay rights and the like.

  Long story short, Sigurd had no clue if his dad really hated gays, or if it was just a lie to get him ahead with the election.

  “I don’t know, Eirí.” Sigurd answered truthfully.

  “...Is it because you’re embarrassed of me?” Eiríkur had a sorrowful expression on his face, and it pained Sigurd that his lover would think such a thing.

  “Absolutely not. Why would you even think that?” Sigurd pulled Eiríkur into a sitting position in his lap so they were eye level.

  “I-I don’t know. It’s just...you always seem so worried that he’ll find out about us. I was worried that it’s because you’re embarrassed to be with me.” Eiríkur told him.

  “Eirí, if we’re being honest I’m not entirely sure how you aren’t embarrassed of me.” Sigurd laughed. He wasn’t lying either.

  “What? You’re joking.” Eiríkur didn’t believe him.

  “No, really. You’re obviously way smarter than I am, and you’re always so strong. Sometimes I feel like an idiot standing next to you.” Sigurd admitted. Even though he knew most people probably didn’t see it that way, that is how Sigurd felt. He swore he was blessed that the universe gave him someone so out of his league. “It’s just that I don’t know how my dad’ll react to the whole gay thing, you know?”

  “I understand.” Eiríkur nodded. “Oh, and Sig.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You _are_ an idiot.” The shorter male chuckled. “But you’re an idiot that loves me, so I don’t mind.”

  They both laughed together before kissing. Right as their lips connected, Sigurd’s door flew open, and he heard a man’s voice saying, “Sigurd, how many times have I told you not to close your door when you have company over—"

  Sigurd quickly pulled away, and Eiríkur scrambled to get out of his lap. It was like the situation at the hospital with his mom all over again, but this time it was his dad, and it was right after Sigurd had mentally decided _not_ to tell him about his relationship.

  “D-Dad.”

  “Sigurd…”

  The two stared at each other, both frozen in place. Sigurd’s mind was racing, trying to come up with explanation for what was happening. Before he could get any words out, his dad simply said, “we need to talk,” before disappearing into the hallway.

  “I’ll be right back…” Sigurd told Eiríkur, who just nodded. The silverette leaned up to give Sigurd a quick, reassuring kiss before he left the room.

  “I’m not going to lie, Sigurd. I’m pretty upset right now.” Mr. Thomassen said, leaning against the wall in the hallway.

  “Dad, I-I can explain. I just...he’s just…” As soon as Sigurd started talking, he realized that he could not, in fact, explain.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you finally found someone?” His dad asked.

   _What?_

“Pardon?” Sigurd blinked, confused.

  “You were always so antisocial, I was worried you’d be alone forever!” His dad laughed. “Is that that Eiríkur boy your mom is always telling me about? The one I met at the hospital? It was hard to see his face just now.”

   Sigurd didn’t understand what was happening. His dad was...happy he had a boyfriend? This had to be dream. It had to be!

  “Um, yeah. That’s him.” he responded, unsure of what else to say.

  “He sounds like a smart boy, I’ll bet he’s really going places.” his dad remarked. “Maybe he’ll motivate you to start trying harder!”

  Sigurd blushed. “Whatever...what are you even doing home? Aren’t you normally working?”

  Mr. Thomassen sighed deeply before answering, and when he did his voice took a much more serious tone. “I’ve been trying to get away from work for quite some time now. As soon as I found out you got hurt all I wanted to do was go to you immediately and stay with you until you got better but...I couldn’t. Today I was finally able to get home early, and I was honestly a little disappointed at first when I heard you had a friend over. I wanted to spend time with you, before you grew up too fast…”

  “Oh…” Sigurd looked down, feeling guilty.

  “But, now that I know that company is your boyfriend, I’m so happy for you!” Mr. Thomassen suddenly exclaimed, lightening up the mood again. “Why don’t you call him out here? I’d love to get to know the kid that actually puts up with my son.”

  “Dad, you’re more embarrassing than mom.” Sigurd said, shaking his head. He smiled, though. Finding out that his dad approved so strongly of his relationship with Eiríkur definitely made the list of the top ten happiest moments of his relatively drab life.

  Sigurd opened the door to his room and motioned for Eiríkur to come out. Eiríkur got up without question and followed Sigurd into the hallway to meet with his dad.

  “Good evening, Mr. Thomassen.” he greeted, giving a polite smile.

  “Good evening, Eiríkur.” the man responded. “It’s nice to be officially meeting you under better circumstances than last time.”

  “Sure is.” Eiríkur agreed. He gave Sigurd a nervous side glance, obviously not clear on what was going on.

  “Oh, you must be confused, huh?” Sigurd’s dad laughed. “Don’t worry, son, you don’t have to worry about any discrimination in this house. I completely approve of your relationship with Sigurd.”

  “Really?” Eiríkur gasped, his eyes lighting up. Being addressed so casually made him feel welcome and at peace.

  “Really. Anyone who’s willing to deal with my kid is welcome around here. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that someone as smart and polite as you agreed to go out with him.” Mr. Thomassen explained.

  “Believe me, it took some convincing.” Eiríkur chuckled.

  Insult aside, Sigurd was glad to see Eiríkur looking so at ease in a social situation. He used to worry that if Eiríkur ever met his dad he’d get scared and uncomfortable. Seeing the two of them hitting it off so well was more than he ever could have wished for.

  “So that’s it? You’re really happy about us?” Sigurd felt the need to triple check.

  “Yes, son, I am. This about that thing I said during my campaign, isn’t it? That I was against gay rights. That’s why you didn’t want to tell me about your boyfriend.” Mr. Thomassen asked with another sigh.

  “Well, yeah, kind of.” Sigurd affirmed.

  “I’m so sorry about that, truly I am. My campaign managers somehow convinced me that it was the best thing to say to win, and I was so focused on my goal I forgot to care how I got it. I will always regret saying something so horrible, believe me. Homophobic people disgust me, and in hindsight I’d rather lose the election than win with their vote. If only I’d had the sense to realize that back then…” his dad explained.  

  “You hate them that much?” Sigurd asked in wonder.

  “Of course. Anyone who would judge another based on the circumstances of their birth doesn’t deserve to live a happy life. As a dad I especially despise any parent that would dare to turn against their own child. Those are the lowest of the low.” Mr. Thomassen seemed angry just thinking about it. “Every child is a blessing, and anyone who would throw theirs away...there is not a word to describe how utterly despicable that is.”

  “Aw, you think I’m a blessing?” Sigurd joked.

  “I know you’re joking, but yes. My son, you are the greatest gift I could ever have asked for, and there’s not a damn thing you could ever do to make me stop loving you, okay? I know I don’t tell you that a lot, but I want to make sure you know you never have to be afraid to tell me anything ever again. You mean more to me than anything else in this world.”

  Sigurd was taken aback. His dad never got this emotional. _I must have really hurt him by not trusting him earlier._

“I know, dad. I love you, too.” Sigurd responded with a smile.

  “Good. Now I’ll let you two get back to your little date, but you can call me if you need anything.” His dad nodded, turning to walk towards the stairs.

  “Got it, thanks dad.” Sigurd nodded back before leading Eiríkur back into his room.

  Once they were inside with the door shut again, Eiríkur hugged onto Sigurd and looked up at him teasingly. “You know, I love you more than anything else, too~”

  Sigurd shook his head and laughed. “Yeah yeah, l know. Now get up here and gimme a kiss.” He grabbed Eiríkur by the waist and lifted him up so kissing would be easier.

  “We’re not gonna get any work done tonight, are we?”

  “It’s not likely.”

  Both of them chuckled before kissing again. For the first time in quite a while, they finally felt like everything was actually going to be okay.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo to be honest I have the ending written already but I think I'll wait a week to post it. I wanna let this cuteness settle here for a while XD


	17. We Weren't Made For A Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two lovebirds go to a doughnut shop to commemorate a special achievement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WROTE THIS SEVEN MONTHS AGO

 Eiríkur was so excited. He couldn't believe it! He was sitting in Sigurd’s lap on the couch (the two of them were at Eiríkur’s house this time) reading the letter he'd received from his dream college. All the hard work and sleepless nights he'd subjected himself to, all the times he had to blow off his own boyfriend to get an assignment done, all of it had been worth it. 

  “Holy shit Eirí. A full ride scholarship for a university like  _ that?  _ I knew you were amazing, but this is just impossible.” 

  “Hey, I always told you I was better than you.” Eiríkur chuckled, spinning around in Sigurd’s lap to face him. 

  “I never doubted it.” Sigurd shook his head, leaning down to kiss Eiríkur on the lips. “This calls for some sort of celebration.” 

  “Does it now? What did you have in mind?” Eiríkur questioned.

  Sigurd thought about this for a few moments before his lips turned up into a smirk. “How about we celebrate this the same way we celebrated my birthday~?” 

  Eiríkur’s eyes widened, his face flushing, and he shook his head profusely. “We are not doing  _ that  _ again!”

  Sigurd suddenly felt awkward, shifting around and looking off to the side. “D-Did you not like it? If it's because I was being too rough you could've told me, I would've stopped…”

  “What are you talking about? I loved it, I promise. But it was not easy explaining all the bruises, rope burns, and bites to my dad. I still don't think he believed my excuse. Besides, you know my dad is going to want a bunch of pictures when he gets home, and I don't want to look completely wrecked on camera.” Eiríkur explained. “But, once you and I find a place and move in together, we can do it whenever you want.” He winked at that last part. 

  Sigurd’s eyes lit up. “You're the best, you know that?”

  “You tell me that everyday.” 

  To this day Sigurd still found it funny that Eiríkur used to hate him. They'd come pretty far in the last year and half. They were over at each other's houses on a near daily basis, and on weekends their parents let them have sleepovers. (If only the poor adults knew what their kids got up to when they were left alone, though).

  “Hmm...how about we go somewhere to eat? That would be a nice celebration.” Sigurd suggested.

  “Now that I can do.” Eiríkur agreed.

  The two of them got up and, after some conversation on where to go, walked to a doughnut shop nearby. Sigurd wasn't the biggest fan of the things, but Eiríkur had a major sweet tooth, and they were celebrating  _ his _ accomplishment after all. The smaller teen ended up getting himself five different doughnuts and a glass of chocolate milk. Sigurd settled for just coffee. 

  The blond couldn't help adoring his boyfriend. It was times like these where the usually reserved, mature teen acted very childish. Most people their age wouldn't be this giddy over sweets, yet here he was. So damn precious. 

  “So,” Eiríkur said between bites “what's your plan for college?” 

  “I haven't really thought about it much.” Sigurd shrugged. Eiríkur laughed. 

  “You're dad could probably just pay your way through wherever you feel like going, huh?” 

  Sigurd couldn't help feeling ashamed. “Yeah...probably.” He was always guilty about how much harder his boyfriend had to work for things than he did. It just wasn't fair. 

  “Hey, I'm joking.” Eiríkur sensed that he'd upset the blond. “You have an advantage in life and you're taking it. Nothing wrong with that.” 

  Sigurd cheered up a bit. “If you say so.” 

  If he was being honest, Eiríkur did get just a tad jealous of Sigurd sometimes, but he never let that get in the way of how he felt about him. It wasn't Sigurd's fault the universe had decided to screw him this life around. There was no sense in getting upset over it. 

  “Aw, c’mon. We were all happy a minute ago.” Eiríkur complained. He walked over to Sigurd’s side of the table and gave him a kiss. 

  The blond hummed appreciatively. Eiríkur’s mouth tasted sweet, and Sigurd couldn't resist slipping his tongue in to get a better taste. Eiríkur pulled away after a minute, chuckling and smirking. “I thought you said you didn't like sweets that much.” 

  Sigurd blushed. “Well, I guess I was wrong.” 

  They exchanged a few more kisses before Eiríkur decided to return to his doughnuts. Sigurd was only a little bit disappointed. Things quickly returned to the way they always were between the two of them. They made shitty jokes, they laughed, they reminisced about things that had happened in school. 

  “Hey Eirí. Remember that time you bashed a guy over the head with a textbook?” Sigurd asked. 

  “Hey, he deserved it!” Eiríkur defended.

  They started laughing again. In that moment, it seemed their lives were going perfectly. No more pain, no more problems. They were happy. It was like the worst was finally over, and they'd reached their classic “happily ever after.” They never could've guessed what was about to happen. 

  They heard the screams just before the gunshot. Heard a body hit the floor. It had happened so suddenly they could barely comprehend what was going on. One moment everything was peaceful, the next everyone was dropping like flies.

  Sigurd dropped to the ground, lying on the floor and squeezing his eyes shut. It took a while for his brain to process what was happening. He didn't know how, or why, but someone had bursted into the shop and started shooting everyone. He peeked his eyes open to see a guy walking around, observing the bodies on the floor. Whenever he realized someone was still alive, he'd shoot them. 

_ Dammit...not again. I don't want to die like this again!  _ Sigurd thought desperately. For some reason it seemed almost all of his lives were cut short like this. He tried to force himself not to cry. He didn't want to draw attention himself.  _ Is it too much to ask to live just one long life? Is it? _

  Sigurd stifled a scream as he heard a bullet hit close to him. By now his heart was pounding so hard he was surprised the shooter couldn't hear it.  _ Shit. That's it, I'm done for.  _ He was so busy freaking out he almost forgot about Eiríkur.  _ No...no no no please tell me he's— _

  Sigurd felt a weight pressing against his back. “Eirí?” 

  “Hush.” Eiríkur whispered. He was laying with his mouth next to Sigurd’s ear, talking quietly enough that only the blond could hear him. “If he hears you he'll know you're alive and shoot you. Don't move, and don't say anything.” 

  Sigurd swallowed thickly and forced himself to relax. He tried to ignore the feeling of his lover’s blood soaking through his shirt. Tried not to cry at the realization that the boy was dying. 

  “Whatever you do, don't cry. Okay? I'm okay. I-It doesn't hurt that bad.” Eiríkur tried to keep Sigurd calm. “I'm used to dying like this, Sig. I'm not scared of it anymore. You don—ngh—don’t have to worry about me.”

  Sigurd was definitely worrying about him.

  “You know...thanks to you, I can honestly say I’m happy right now. Today’s...been...a-an amazing day. I’m in my favorite shop, and I have...you with me. What more could I ask for? As long as you're here I...I’m happy. I don't mind dying this way.” 

  Sigurd wished so badly to be able to respond. 

  “I need you to do me a favor though…” Eiríkur’s voice started to sound strained. “Two, actually. Tell my dad...I'm sorry. I-I promised I wouldn't ever leave him.” 

_ Idiot. You're not making it easier not to cry.  _

__ “And...I need you to keep living. You have...a lot...to live for, you hear me? D-Don't give up on everything because of me.” 

_ Me? Live without you? Are you insane?  _

  “I know...this is unfair. I get to say goodbye...but you don't. I'm sorry.” 

_ What are you sorry for? You're the one dying…  _

  “I'm sorry I...I hated you before. I’m sorry I yelled at you. And I’m so...so sorry I didn't spend more time with you…”

_ It's okay. _

__ “I love you, Sigurd. No matter what I said before. I-I love you.” 

_ I love you too… _

__ “Maybe next time...it won’t be...like this.” 

_ Yeah...next time. _

__ “See you then, Sig.” 

_ Goodbye, Eirí. _

  Sigurd didn't hear anything else from Eiríkur after that. He didn't understand how the teen could do what he did. Stay so calm in this kind of situation. He didn't even seem to care that he was dying. 

  Although, Sigurd supposed, he had always been that way. Eiríkur never was the type to get scared, or to worry about himself. He was stubbornly selfless right up to the end. The more he thought about it, the harder it became not to break down. 

  Everything was so perfect a little while ago.  _ I'm used to us dying, but why did it have to be like this? Why so fast? Why without a proper goodbye?  _ Sigurd had to focus on not trembling. Something about what Eiríkur had said kept playing over in his mind.  _ “As long as you're here I...I’m happy.”  _

_ I’ve heard that before...I know I have.  _ Sigurd thought. He could feel his mind straining to remember something from a long time ago, but the memory wouldn't come.  _ Maybe this is a dream? Maybe it just sounds familiar because it's all a dream… _

  Sigurd wished he could believe himself, but he knew it was a lie. He knew this was happening. He knew Eiríkur was dead. He just couldn't understand why. 

  Sigurd stayed there, lying still for nearly fifteen minutes before the police showed up. It had been a while since he felt the body above his go cold. When the cops scanned the area, they found that Sigurd was the only survivor. Since Eiríkur had died on top of him it had looked like they'd both bled to death, and the shooter accidentally let Sigurd live.

  Everything after that went by in a blur. He vaguely remembered being pulled away from Eiríkur. He might have screamed a few times, he wasn't sure. At some point he ended up back home, but he couldn't remember how he got there. 

_ I don’t understand...I don’t. Why him? Of all the people in my life, why did it have to be him?  _ Sigurd wondered.  _ It should have been anyone but him!  _

 

  Eiríkur had asked him once if he knew how much it hurt to have someone you love die in front of you. To be helpless while it happened. He did now: it hurt badly. More than anything had ever hurt before. His limbs felt numb. His head ached. There was a throbbing emptiness in his abdomen that wouldn't go away. Worst of all was the tight, stabbing pain that gripped his heart. He felt almost as if he was fading away, his only anchor to reality being the excruciating pain that tore through him every time he remembered that the love of his life was dead.

_ Surely even death is better than this... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate me now? ;3  
> In all honesty, though, I had always intended to end it this way. Like if you asked me, when I first started this, to make an outline of the plot, it probably would've looked like this:  
> 1\. They meet.  
> 2\. Stuff happens  
> 3\. Eirí hates Sig  
> 4\. Idk wing it man  
> 5\. Oh look they're together  
> 6\. Oops he's dead 
> 
> Oh, but there is one more chapter by the way :3


	18. Starting Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song pairs surprisingly well with the song Angels Fall by Breaking Benjamin and I would highly recommend listening to it during/after reading this :3

__ It had been a month since Eiríkur had died. A month that Sigurd had spent alone, unable to do anything but wonder why. The pain never left. It was the longest the two of them had ever been apart like this. As far back as Sigurd could remember, whenever Eiríkur died, so did he. Whether they died of illness, accident, or were murdered like Eiríkur had just been, they had never once died a full month apart like this. It was starting to drive Sigurd insane.

  He watched the news reports on the day this painful loneliness began. Apparently the man that had shot up the store was the psycho ex-husband of the shop’s owner. Not only had he come to kill his ex, but he wanted to completely destroy her business too. For whatever reason, in his mind, the best way to do that was to kill everyone in it.  _ I ought to kill him for this… _

__ Sigurd wanted on more than one occasion to kill the man that had condemned him to this living hell. This last month was easily the worst of Sigurd’s life—no, his entire  _ existence _ . As if the hollow emptiness of waking up every day knowing his only love was gone forever wasn’t enough, he’d had to  _ talk  _ about it. He’d had to look Eiríkur’s dad in the eyes and tell him that the light of his life was gone forever. Murdered for no reason. He’d had to admit that he’d failed in protecting the only thing he’d ever loved. He did as Eiríkur had asked and told his dad how sorry he was for leaving. They spent the whole day together crying, struggling to understand how someone so soft could die so brutally. 

  Sigurd looked at the calendar in his room and laughed darkly. Today was supposed to be Eiríkur’s first day in college.  _ He was so excited about it, too.  _ Before he could stop himself, he started crying again.  _ That’s it. I give up. I’m sorry Eirí, but I can’t carry out your dying wish. I just can’t.  _

  He got out of his bed, grabbing the picture he had of Eiríkur off his shelf. He smiled for a while as he looked at it. His boyfriend looked so cute in it...He walked down the stairs and out of his house, ignoring his parents questioning where he was going. He just kept smiling down at his picture and walking. His parents made the mistake of assuming that he just needed some air, and allowed him to walk away. Such a big mistake…

  Sigurd made his way to where he knew one of the busiest streets in town was. He spent a good minute just watching the cars fly by before looking back down at the photo. Even as the tears started pouring down his face, he kept smiling.  _ I really miss you, Eiríkur. I can’t handle being apart from you anymore.  _ He started walking forwards.  _ I promise next time I’ll do better. Next time I’ll protect you no matter what. I’m never leaving you alone again, never. _

__ The people on the sidewalk nearby him noticed what he was doing just a moment too late. By the time they started calling out to him, Sigurd had already stepped out into traffic. 

* * *

_ June 17, Ten Years Later _

  The two and-a-half year old whined for the tenth time as he watched the clock tick by. An hour ago everyone was so frantic and excited. Now they were just sitting in the hospital doing nothing. His Game Boy had run out of battery a few minutes ago, and the little blond was bored out of his mind. He regretted not bringing his book. Sure he couldn’t read well, on account of only being two, but he liked the pictures. 

  “Auntie! I’m bored. I wanna go home!” he complained loudly. 

  “I know sweetie, I know. Just wait a little longer.” the woman soothed, beckoning him over. He sat in her lap and and leaned his head against her shoulder. Within minutes he was asleep. 

  It was about an hour later when he woke up to the sound of his dad’s voice calling him. “Lukas, come here.”

  The little boy looked at his dad and saw the doctor standing behind him. He was scared of strangers, and shook his head. 

  “Come on Lukas, it’s safe. Don’t be a little fraidy cat. Come here.” his dad laughed. 

  Hesitantly, Lukas ran after his dad. He clung tightly to his arm, trying to pretend the doctor wasn’t there. “Dad, I wanna go home.” He stated. 

  “Soon, son. I promise.” his dad assured him. Lukas pouted. 

  “Hey, lighten up. It’s not everyday you get to meet your new little brother.” 

  Lukas followed his dad and the stranger until he reached a room. He saw his mom inside holding a little bundle and smiling brightly. He wondered what was so exciting about the little blanket. He ran over to her, and she grinned at him. 

  “Hey little guy.” she greeted. “Look at this.”

  She held the bundle a little lower so Lukas could see. “This is your new little brother. His name’s Emil.” She told him.

__ Lukas stared at the little baby for a while. “He looks squishy.”

  His parents chuckled. “Babies tend to look like that.” His mom said. 

  “I don’t like it.” Lukas huffed. 

  “Lukas, don’t say that.” his dad scolded. “This little guy is gonna look up to you someday. It’ll be your job to take care of him.”

  “Really?” Lukas asked. 

  “Really. As his big brother, you have to protect him. He needs you.” his dad confirmed. 

  Lukas smiled for the first time that day when he looked back at his little brother. “He is cute.” He admitted. “Hi Emil!” he greeted the baby in a soft squeaky voice. “I’ll protect you okay? Cuz yer so squishy and tiny.”

  He giggled as the little thing wiggled around. “I love him.” Lukas stated proudly. 

  His parents watched fondly as Lukas giggled happily and continued talking to the cute little bundle. Lukas wasn’t sure why—perhaps it was just a brotherly instinct—but he felt a strong compulsion to stay by his little brother’s side and keep him safe no matter what, and to never leave him alone. Never. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will just be a bonus/fun fact kind of deal. You'll see :P


	19. Fun Facts!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few silly things I thought I'd share about this story :P

1\. I started this whole thing by mistake! My original story was gonna focus on how Nor and Ice were lovers who got reincarnated as brothers, but when I started writing the death scene for their past lives, I accidentally started thinking "what events would have led up to them dying like this?" And this was the result.

2\. I've actually gotten a year older since starting this! ^-^

3\. This is officially the longest story I've ever written. 

4\. Ironically, Eiríkur's and Sigurd's houses were both based off of places I've lived, despite how opposite they are. 

5\. Though I decided to leave it out in interest of stopping this story from getting too long, Alex is like 100% homo for Eiríkur and only pushed him away because he was afraid people would hate him if they knew he was gay. 

6\. I never really stated it but before he met Eiríkur, Sigurd had never had a crush before and had assumed he was straight. 

7\. I originally intended for this to be around 5-6 chapters, but I had too much fun with it. 

8\. I actually got the whole reincarnation idea from watching The Flash. 

9\. One part of the death scene was based off of a show I watched when I was little, City Hunter. (Basically they were getting shot at and one guy got shot and then used his body to cover his best friend so the shooters would mistake him for a corpse and leave him alive)

10\. I changed my mind about how I wanted to kill them about five times. I initially considered stabbing, and at some point I thought about them dying together instead of a month apart. 

11\. The reason I wrote the end before the middle was because I kept having the same annoying thoughgd like: "Why did this happen now?" "How could it happen so suddenly?" "Out of everyone in my life why did it have to be him?" And then one day I suddenly remembered, hey! I'm writing a story where someone dies, I can use these thoughts for it instead of moping like a little baby. So I did :3 


End file.
